


Dream of (Being) Someone Better

by AnotherShotofBourbon



Series: Soulmates [7]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Angst, F/F, Soulmates, don't go expecting happy endings with this, soulmates that missed their window, spirit world dreams saying you should make out with this person but you're too broken to do so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-16
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-18 00:04:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9352442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnotherShotofBourbon/pseuds/AnotherShotofBourbon
Summary: Asami is having dreams. Terrible, horrible, wonderful dreams that seem more real than the reality she lives in. Dreams where she is a better person, a dream where she is loved as fully and totally as she feels like she deserves to be. It's just too bad that she doesn't feel any of this in real life.





	1. (Bitter)(Sweet)Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone out there remembers my story Love Isn't As Easy as the Books Make It Seem, this is a spiritual successor to that. I wouldn't recommend reading this if you expect this to end like all my other soulmate fics, because it doesn't. There might be some hope there at the end, depending on how you chose to interpret it.  
> Also keep in mind that there is going to be Depression throughout, and that wonderful Self Medicating through Alcohol. There are a few Anxiety Attacks scattered throughout.

_I’ve had a reoccurring nightmare/I was loved for who I am/missed the opportunity to be a better man_

            She doesn’t dream much, or at all really. When she does dream, it is usually only when she’s so exhausted that sleep comes whether she wants it or not, whether she’s ready for it or not. And even then, she only remembers snippets, pieces of fragments of her subconscious.

            Lately however, it seems that every time she closes her eyes she’s dreaming. And, worst of all, remembering everything.

            Unlike usual dreams that would fade like water held in her hands, slipping through the cracks in between her fingers until nothing remains but the impression of dreams, tiny droplets of water clinging to her skin. Now she’s retaining memories of dreams for hours, even days afterward.

            A gentle, lingering touch; the warmth in the contact.

            A warmth of a bed; close, confined, comfortable, shared, enticing enough to never want to leave.

            A summer day, a field, a cloudless sky. A cerulean sky. A sky so blue it was impossible. A gorgeous, amazing sky unmarred by clouds or darkness. The perfect blue that was never cold, that was never isolating, never broken or sad. It was warm and kind and perfect.

            The kind of blue that Asami could get used to.

            Someone next to her sighing contentedly. “Perfect.”

            A feeling, a knowledge so profound that it is carved in her bones, stitched in her muscles, tattooed on her skin, and seared in her brain: she is loved for exactly who she is.

            Every day she awoke from the nightmare and hated herself.

            Asami’s subconscious is nothing but a vindictive bastard.

            The feeling was enough to make her wish the dream world was the real one, to wish she could sleep instead of working late. To want to give up all she worked for to fight to stay asleep.

            She loved working late. She loved the thrill of long projects and deep problem solving. And now she was wishing she could just go back to bed. And stay there forever.

            Instead, Asami just doubled down on her already worrying caffeine consumption. She was sure that at this point her blood was at least 60% coffee.

            No tea. Never tea.

            If she even smelled the herbs in tea she flashes back to something not even real. A dream invented by her subconscious, and now rooting in the waking world as memory.

            A dream of a cozy room. A dream of warm tea in warm, artfully crafted porcelain mugs. A dream of soft blankets. A dream of books and contentment and being held by strong and wonderful arms. A dream of being unconditionally loved by someone whose face she didn’t recognize and couldn’t see.

            Fuck tea.

            Fuck her subconscious.

            Fuck her dreams.

            Fuck them for being the only place that she truly felt loved.

            Fuck sleep.

            Asami still had three more projects to finish before the end of the month. And her mug was empty. The coffee gone.

            With a deep sigh, Asami closed her eyes and promised herself she’d get up to make another round of coffee in just a second.

            But instead, her body succumbed to the exhaustion she was putting off for weeks, and once more Asami slipped into a dream filled sleep where she was at once better than she was and the same time loved for exactly who she was.

            When she remembers that upon waking in a few hours, she’ll be happy (fleetingly), hurt (for a while), and bitter (for days).

 

* * *

 

 

            At this point Asami couldn’t tell if it’d been six weeks or six months or six lifetimes of the universe since she last slept and didn’t dream, since she last slept and woke up not hating everything around for not being imagined. Or perhaps for having the audacity to be real. Or maybe it was herself she hated, for not being better. For not being loved the way she wanted, needed.

            It was her fourth shot of espresso. It was well after 3am. And somehow Asami found herself on the Avatar of Dreams website. Some, more than likely, bullshit dream interpretation website that offered a 24-hour chat to have a professional read her dreams. Over the internet.

            But the espresso was coursing through her veins, it was late, and it had been a few days since she truly slept (not counting the few hours yesterday that felt less like sleep and more like a blackout). So, good decisions were clearly not something Asami Sato was physically capable of making.

 

 **AvatarofDreams** : Hello and good evening. Welcome to the Avatar of Dreams. What dream would you like for me to interpret for you?

 **Engineer5** : Actually I was hoping you could tell me how to stop having them.

 **AvatarofDreams** : Nightmares?

 **Engineer5** : The opposite actually.

 **AvatarofDreams** : Why would you want to stop having good dreams?

 **Engineer5** : Because they aren’t real. They’ll never be real. And what is real will never compare.

 **AvatarofDreams** : I see.

 **Engineer5** : How do I stop them?

 **AvatarofDreams** : Get drunk enough to pass out? That usually works for me, but it is terribly unhealthy so I wouldn’t really recommend it.

 

            Asami had to admit that she laughed at that. An undignified snorting laugh. The kind of laugh that comes from a place that was not prepared for a joke, even a barely funny one, and just let it slip through her layered defenses.

 

 **Engineer5** : lol that was funny

 **AvatarofDreams** : :D

 **Engineer5** : Is there no healthy way of not dreaming?

 **AvatarofDreams** : Dreams do so many things for the mind

They help us relieve stress or even solve problems

Sometimes it is just the mind’s way of relaxing or unwinding

Or if you believe in this stuff, when the mind is most open to the spirit world sending you messages

 

            Asami’s scoff, her snort of disbelief was loud enough that it might have carried across the internet. Yeah, the spirit world. That nonsense. Even if it was real, why would it waste it’s time with her, trying to send her messages. Messages of what? There was someone out there for her that was perfect for her?

            Fat fucking chance of that.

 

 **Engineer5** : yeah I don’t think it’s the universe of the ghosts of Convergences past

 **AvatarofDreams** : Why don’t you tell me about it?

I mean you did pay for the session and I can only do so much with vague details

 **Engineer5** : Fine

I dream I’m a better person

That I’m loved for who I am in my dreams

I dream that I’m happy

I dream that I’m with someone I love more than I hate myself

…

And I dream that they love me back

 

            Asami was so happy that this conversation was text based, so that the Avatar couldn’t see her gross, puffy eyed, 4am crying.

 

 **AvatarofDreams** : Wow

Ok

Are you ok?

 **Engineer5** : Not really

No

I haven’t slept in forever and I’m a terrible person

I’m so fucking exhausted

 **AvatarofDreams** : I’m pretty sure that you’re not a terrible person

I’ll put money on it, in fact

 **Engineer5** : You don’t even know me

 **AvatarofDreams** : Avatar’s intuition

 **Engineer5** : Bullshit

 **AvatarofDreams** : Fine

I’ll prove it to you

Have you ever killed anyone?

 **Engineer5** : no

 **AvatarofDreams** : Any DUI’s?

 **Engineer5** : No!

 **AvatarofDreams** : Sexual assault?

 **Engineer5** : Absolutely not!

 **AvatarofDreams** : Ok, big one’s late: are you a barista at any of the Starbucks in Republic City?

 **Engineer5** : What? No.

 **AvatarofDreams** : :) there proved it

You can’t be a terrible person with dreams like yours if you’ve never done any of those things

Well unless you voted for President Raiko

 

            Asami was laughing, quietly to herself, in between sniffling and crying. Maybe it was because of the lack of sleep in her life, maybe it was because it was well past being considered late and started to be early, but Asami was feeling so much better already. Well, a fraction of a fraction better, but considering how shit she’s been lately that half a millimeter of improvement may have been a hundred million miles.

 

 **AvatarofDreams** : Sorry that last one was a joke

 **Engineer5** : No, it’s fine

It was funny

I was just laughing and crying

And it’s hard to type when your mascara is running

 **AvatarofDreams** : That’s why I never wear the stuff, always stabbing myself in the eye, crying, having it run all over the place and causing a big mess

 **Engineer5** : :)

 **AvatarofDreams** : So back to your dreams

You said in your dreams you were better than you are

Since you are not a terrible person, this kind of desire to improve shouldn’t be scary

Everyone is always improving, changing all the time

Nothing can ever really stay the same.

And trying to hold on to something like this is trying to hold water in your hands. It’ll get out eventually. It’ll slip through your fingers or evaporate eventually

The problem isn’t that you dream you’re different the problem is that when you wake up you see the difference and you assume the word ‘better’

What is better?

Is better getting more things done or taking more time for yourself?

Is it being nicer?

Is it exercising more?

Eating more? More work? Less work?

 **Engineer5** : I don’t know

Being less of a judgmental asshole who secludes herself in her office for weeks at a time only focusing on work instead of herself or loved ones?

 **AvatarofDreams** : That’s easy!

Just go for a walk every day or go to a coffee shop

If you’re in Republic City don’t go to a Starbucks unless you want your name spelled wrong and your order to be screwed up somehow

 **Engineer5** : I’ll keep that in mind

And yes I am in Republic City

 **AvatarofDreams** : Oh! Awesome!

If you’re still up at sunrise go to Yue Bay, get a boat or swim out a bit, turn back to shore and watch the sunrise from being the City

It’s gorgeous

And bam!

You’re no longer sequestering yourself in your office all the time

 **Engineer5** : And the judgmental bitch part?

 **AvatarofDreams** : I admit that is a hard one

The trouble is to admit to yourself that you’ll make judgments no matter what

It’s this stupid thing that we do as humans

Then you have to take a deep breath and not act on that initial judgment

Trust me, it’s tough

 **Engineer5** : I’ll try

 **AvatarofDreams** : That’s all any of us can do

So this next part of your dream…

 **Engineer5** : Yeah?

 **AvatarofDreams** : Well

There’s a common theme

That you are loved

 **Engineer5** : Yeah

AvatarofDreams: And I hope you don’t mind my asking…

But this seems to be bothering you a lot from how many times you mentioned it and if you don’t want to answer it you don’t have to

 **Engineer5** : It’s like 4:30am

I left behind secrets at about 2am when I took my second shot of espresso

 **AvatarofDreams** : Ok…

Do you love them?

 **Engineer5** : I do

 **AvatarofDreams** : And do they love you?

 **Engineer5** : Not like I love him

I think he’s in love with someone else

 **AvatarofDreams** : That fucking sucks I’m sorry

 **Engineer5** : Not as sorry as me

 **AvatarofDreams** : I don’t want to tell you how to live your life but you need to break up with them

Giving that much of yourself and not getting anything like it in return is the worst

You’re sacrificing your own happiness, sanity, for someone else’s

It’s not noble

It’s not healthy

You’re eroding yourself and your happiness

 **Engineer5** : But I hate myself outside of relationships

Single me is terrible

The worst parts of me get worse and the good parts of me fade away

I don’t know what to do with myself outside of this relationship

And I love him, I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone else

 **AvatarofDreams** : You’re an oasis in the desert

If you keep giving up the water within you and getting nothing back, you’ll dry up eventually

You’ll be a lifeless empty husk

No one wants that

I don’t want that

 **Engineer5** : I don’t think you get it

I love him

I love him so much that I keep telling myself that this is ok

This is good enough

To know that he’s happy that he’s good

Shouldn’t that be good enough for me?

 **AvatarofDreams** : That’s not love

That’s…

That’s…

That’s infatuation or reckless devotion or suicide wrapped up as sacrifice

Love isn’t all take

Love isn’t a leech that will drain you dry and kill you

If your relationship isn’t equal that it isn’t a relationship it’s a…

Bad business deal

 **Engineer5** : Perhaps you’re right

 **AvatarofDreams** : Sorry

I can’t not try to help ‘-_-

It’s not something I can turn off

And I’m a little concerned about you

Also these are your dreams

I’m just helping you interpret them

 **Engineer5** : Doesn’t really make me excited to go back to sleep though. But I appreciate everything you said

Thanks

 **AvatarofDreams** : I hope sleep get easier for you

I hear human beings need it to live

You should also consider therapy, real doctor stuff

But if you need someone to talk to in the wee hours of the morning I’m here most nights

 **Engineer5** : Thanks

I’ll consider it

Really though, thanks.

But I think I’m going to make some coffee and power through the rest of the night

 **AvatarofDreams** : Well good luck :)

I hope the coffee is going and you find what you’re looking for

Good night

Either that coffee is really good or you fell asleep

Hello?

Ok well I’m assuming you feel asleep

I hope it’s restful and your dreams are but figments of a rested subconscious

Also I’m going to mark this conversation as being over ten minutes ago so you aren’t charged for me talking to myself

Good night

Sleep tight

I hope you’re not gonna wake up with a crick in your neck

 

            Asami was asleep, slumped over in her arms at her desk. Utterly oblivious to the uncomfortable positon and glowing computer screen.

            She dreamed of an oasis, dying, parched for water, with barely enough moisture to interest the numerous passing caravans. A thunderstorm loomed in the distance. Lightning crackled and distant thunder sounded loud and triumphant across the desert. But despite Asami’s cries, her desperate pleas, and offering absolutely everything she had and more, no caravan came near and the thunderstorm didn’t move closer. It didn’t move at all, and she felt herself wasting away.

            No one cared about her, except for the one faceless girl who dropped a canteen full of water into the oasis. Asami barely noticed because she was focused too much on the thunderstorm not giving her what she needed.

 

* * *

 

 

            Korra, all things considered, liked her job. At times it could be super stupid and barely worth her attention with all the grannies and New Ager nonsense demanding their dreams be analyzed for every little detail.

            But then there were moments like the one she just had. Moments when Korra felt like she was truly making the most of this job. Sure, part of it was working with the bizarre and semi-spiritual stuff that creeps into dreams every now and again, but then there was the amateur psychologist part of it that required listening and helping someone through their problems.

            It was like therapy with a dash of mysticism.

            Even though she was rubbish at the spiritual stuff still…

            But the helping people part? Oh, that was easy. That comes naturally. Korra was a born helper.

            There wasn’t much else that happened for the rest of her shift. But Korra felt confident that she had done good.

            Real good.

            At the 4am graveyard shift.

            There were worst shifts.

            Spirits, she could have Tenzin’s dawn shift. That would be utterly terrible. At least when she gets done at almost 5am, she could sleep as long as she’d like without anyone having a solid reason to yell her for sleeping till 3 or 4.

            Korra signed out of her work site and started the laborious process of getting ready for bed.

            All her working hours were spent talking about dreams.

            And every night she wonders what kind of dreams she’ll have that night.

            But for the last six weeks they’ve all been the same

            A dream of tea. Perfect porcelain cups. The set that Iroh favored before he passed.

            A dream of warmth and happiness. Of cuddling.

            A dream of a date, in the middle of summer. A perfect cloudless day that can’t pass by without comment.

            A dream where she had no physical limitations. A dream where even if she did the person she was with didn’t mind, didn’t care, didn’t notice.

            “Perfect.”

            A dream of a picnic on a field of perfect viridian. A green greener than a green should be. Like if all the greens in all the world had been sampled and taken into a lab and distilled, condensed, into the most perfect, vibrant, amazing viridian. A field of green, so full of life and love and everything, that Korra’s heart swelled and she couldn’t bear to look away.

            The she noticed that the field was dying. Slowly, very slowly, the grass around the edges of the field started to go brown, to dry out, to die.

            The field was succumbing to something. Something was sapping the life out of it, stealing away its essence, its life, its very soul. Korra wept at the loss of the beauty and tried everything she could to stop it.

            But nothing she did slowed the dying.

            The death of the grass continued, grew, and spread at every opportunity.

            There was someone there beside her, a person whose face she didn’t, couldn’t recognize. She grabbed that person’s hand and held on to it, like this was the only way to save something from this dream. She wanted to reassure them that it would all be ok, that she’d help them, that she’d save them, that the field would survive, the green would continue.

            Even she knew she was lying.

            When Korra awoke that afternoon she found herself crying, depressed at the loss of something she never had and never experienced in reality, but desperately wished that she could save forever.


	2. Reoccurring(Dreams)(Nightmares)

_Love has been here and gone/Love have been here and gone/where did you go/where did you run/I can’t erase what you’ve done/let’s burn the past, forget the truth/I’m still more than him, I’m still loving you_

            Asami can’t keep it up.

            The whole not sleeping cycle. The knowledge (is it hindsight at this point?) that she isn’t loved how she wants (needs) to be loved.

            She can feel herself succumbing into madness. Slowly, totally mad.

            The problem is that she can’t give up sleep. The Avatar of Dreams was right, human beings do need sleep to survive, and Asami’s hanging by a thread.

            A thread above succumbing to...

            Succumbing to…

            Anything. Everything.

            Madness. Depression. A desire to sleep for eternity. You name it, she was about a minute away from succumbing to it.

            Her dreams were only getting worse.

            She was startling to lose herself, she was losing the sky.

            The thunderstorm was getting closer, she could feel the heat from the lightning and it was searing, the boom from the thunder shook her bones. No rain was coming. No water.

            No more blue.

            She was losing the blue of the sky. The blue that was like poetry.

            She was losing it and she couldn’t stand it any longer.

            There was nothing tying her to this dream anymore. She’d lost the tea and the warmth and the person that she couldn’t see correctly was starting to fade from her as the storm grew worse.

            Always worse.

            Every night, every dream, the storm grew worse.

            The warmth was replaced with terrible heat. The tea blown away by the wind. The person who loved her, who was there for every dream, who made the dream so much better than the real world, was being swallowed by the roaring storm.

            Every morning, every time she woke up, Asami was more and more tired, more and more out of control of her own thoughts.

            It’s such a strange thing, being lost in her own head.

            Always the intellectual, always the smart one, always the one ready to use her brilliance. And now locked in her own mind. Dreams that won’t let her rest. Knowledge that won’t let her find peace.

            She isn’t loved.

            Not like she wants to be. Not like she so selfishly wants to be. Not like she feels like she deserves to be.

            And that’s the part that kills her. The part that is threatening to tear that final thread keeping her together. The thought, no the knowledge, that this is exactly the kind of love that she deserves. The kind of lopsided affair that she is worthy of: giving every single piece of herself up, to offer all of the love that she has and isn’t worthy of getting even half as much in return.

            She’s only here to give love, to be selfless, and to be anything else is to be selfish, needy, desperate, broken, and that special kind of unlovable ugly.

            Her dreams only confirm it.

            The storm, stealing her away from the one person who ever loved her, was threatening to destroy Asami. And the boy she was with if she actually went through with the breakup part of her knew she had to.

            If she ever convinced herself to go through with it.

            But she loved him. She loved him so much. How could she just willingly destroy that love? How can she smash something that she is told is good and pure and all that makes life worth living? She has love, she’s giving it away all the time, so can she survive going back to not having it?

            She somehow managed to cry for half the night without falling asleep, like she’d been doing lately.

            Coming undone, fraying at the edges, losing the bits of herself that make her Asami Sato. But it was almost 4am and she was awake, starring at her computer screen, in desperate search for a connection.

 

**AvatarofDreams** : Welcome to the Avatar of Dreams, how can I help you?

**Engineer5** : I’m losing my mind

**AvatarofDreams** : More good dreams?

**Engineer5** : no no

No

They’ve officially translated into nightmares

Horrifying nightmares and coming undone

Every step forward I make and the nightmares get worse

It’s the same nightmare every time and it gets worse over and over

I’m losing the sky

There’s no more blue

**AvatarofDreams** : Ok, ok

Breathe.

Take a deep breath

Hold it for two seconds

Exhale slowly

Take another deep breath

Hold it for two seconds

Exhale

Repeat as many times as necessary

I’ll wait

Just breathe

**Engineer5** : I’m trying

I’m trying so hard

The whole sobbing uncontrollably for the last several hours makes breathing hard

**AvatarofDreams** : Trust me, breathe

Slowly, take your time

Just concentrate on getting the air into the deepest crevices of your lungs

Fresh air in

Bad, stale air with all those emotions and such in it, out

**Engineer5** : I think it’s working

Thanks

**AvatarofDreams** : Anxiety attack?

**Engineer5** : Is that what you call it when your hands are shaking you can’t breathe, your brain is on fire and yet you’re freezing to death?

**AvatarofDreams** : Sounds about right

**Engineer5** : yeah, then that’s it

Massive fucking anxiety attack

It’s exhausting

**AvatarofDreams** : it really, really is

**Engineer5** : but I’m terrified of sleeping

**AvatarofDreams** : tell me about it

I can help, if you’ll let me

**Engineer5** : I’m happy, content, as close to being loved as I can get

The sky is perfect, a blue that is so blue that it is impossible

I’ve never loved a color I’ve never seen in reality the way I love this blue

But it’s going away

It’s being taken from me

A thunderstorm is here

A thunderstorm without rain, just heat and wind and lightning

Trying to strip everything from me

**AvatarofDreams** : you say it is the same dream every night just worse?

**Engineer5** : yes

**AvatarofDreams** : and you’re afraid that this storm is coming to take away everything you hold dear because…

**Engineer5** : because I want to break up with him but I’m afraid I’ll never get any better

I’m afraid that if I do this I’ll lose all the love I’m ever likely to get

 

            At this moment Korra felt herself at a crossroads.

            She knew the dream

            She knew the storm. She knew the heat.

            She was losing the field of green. She was losing that person that was there with her.

            Everything was hanging by a thread: her own dream, and this woman’s sanity. Both seemingly handing by a single string over a chasm, an abyss that would consume the entire thing beyond the recognition of the waking world.

            Korra took a deep breath and told her what she thought would be the right answer. Not for her own dream, she didn’t care about that. There would be other dreams, other feelings. But for this Engineer woman, she was on the verge of losing everything.

            And all Korra wanted to do was to help her.

 

**AvatarofDreams** : You were saying that your significant other doesn’t love you the way you love them, right?

**Engineer5** : yes

**AvatarofDreams** : Are they the person in your dreams?

**Engineer5** : who else would it be?

**AvatarofDreams** : It could be anyone you’ve ever met, or possibly yet to meet

**Engineer5** : Are you kidding me?

You pulling this spiritual bullshit on me?

**AvatarofDreams** : I don’t really know what you expected from someone working for this website

:/

**Engineer5** : Sorry

I’m sorry

I’m such an asshole

**AvatarofDreams** : it’s ok

But seriously

The human brain is absolutely shit at coming up with new faces

Every single person you’ve ever seen in dreams has been someone that you’ve seen in real life

On TV, in a movie, buying coffee from them at a terrible Starbucks

You can’t invent faces

So do you know for certain that this person is your significant other?

**Engineer5** : I… don’t know who it is

I can’t

I can’t see their face

You know in dreams how things get twisted, but you know, you just know that this person or this place is this specific person or this specific place, even though when you wake there’s no way in hell that that person looks like that or that place has that architecture?

**AvatarofDreams** : yeah

**Engineer5** : this dream is different

This dream doesn’t feel real then I wake and realize the absurdity of it all

This feels intensely real

More real than reality

And then I wake up and feel like this reality, the world I know is real, is a huge let down

**AvatarofDreams** : you don’t believe in spirits or the spirit world do you?

**Engineer5** : no

Not really

I believe very firmly in the things that I can touch, take apart, make with my hands

Anything else is….

Fake

No

I don’t know the right word

Unprovable?

**AvatarofDreams** : I should have guess from your username that you’d be a very hands-on person

**Engineer5** : I’m not super creative when it comes to the naming thing

**AvatarofDreams** : but in my professional dream interpreter opinion, it sounds like you are venturing into the spirit world when you dream

The person who loves you so much is a person that you haven’t met yet

And this storm is either your fear of the pending breakup that you mentioned is taking everything from you and leaving you with nothing

Or

It is you staying in the relationship and it is manifesting as this storm sucking you dry and robbing you of this potential person

**Engineer5** : oh such great fucking options

Die alone or die unhappy and empty

Fucking woo

**AvatarofDreams** : I’m just the messenger

But it seems like this event whatever you are pushing off

It seems like whatever this storm is it wants to take away the love that you have with this person you don’t know

**Engineer5** : What do I do?

**AvatarofDreams** : I don’t know

I can’t tell you what to do with your life

I’m just here for the dreams

But I think that you really need to make a decision

And soon

This storm is bad

If it’s anything like the storms I’ve experienced in my own dreams you need to act before the storm makes you act

And when the storm makes you act it’ll be so much worse

**Engineer5** : …

What should I do?

**AvatarofDreams** : Ok…

Look, I don’t think I can ethically do this as part of my job

So I’m considering the chat closed for payment purposes and all that

**[chat closed]**

There

I’m no longer your client or vice versa or whatever

But this whole thing is screwed

What I know of you is that you are a nice, selfless person with more love to give than you’re getting back

No matter how you cut it your relationship isn’t healthy and it’s not good

You need to end it

You need to find your own happiness

And you’ll never get it from someone who doesn’t love you as much as you love them

Trust me

**Engineer5** : I don’t know if I can

**AvatarofDreams** : of course you can

You’re stronger than you realize

I promise

And you are absolutely worthy of being loved

You are worthy of being loved exactly as much as you love

Trust me on this

If you believe nothing I’ve said so far except for one thing, please believe that

**Engineer5** : I’ll try my best

**AvatarofDreams** : Look, I’ll give you my phone number

You can text me any time

(except maybe the mornings)

I don’t know when I’ll respond since I work so late and then sleep for a good portion of the daylight hours away

But I’ll always be there when I can

Would that help?

Oh my name’s Korra

By the way

 

            Asami was stunned, looking at her computer monitor at an hour in which most sensible people were asleep. She couldn’t bear the kindness she was being shown. This person, this Korra was being way too good to her.

            What was she supposed to do?

            She doubted she could go through with the breakup.

            This was too much.

            Asami was never a gambler. She hated it. The odds of her finding someone that loved her, even a little? That was a long shot, wasn’t it? The longest of long shots.

            To give up the false love that she had, to get what in return? An absence of love? The chance at a better love that she feels like will never come? What the hell was she going to do with that?

 

**Engineer5** : How can I give it up?

How can I lose that?

How can I lose love?

**AvatarofDreams** : You’re not giving up

You’re fighting

You’re fighting for yourself

It is the best and only fight

Fight for yourself

If you don’t want to do it for you, do it for me

**Engineer5** : Why do you even care?

Why do you care if I fight for myself or whatever?

Why do you care if I breakup with my boyfriend or not?

Why do you care about me?

You don’t even know me

**AvatarofDreams** : I’d like to know you

I do care about you. I believe in you

Because you are a person

You are a real person in pain and I want to help you in whatever way I can

And the only way I can help you is by telling you that I think your boyfriend is an ass for not seeing what an amazing person he has and is a dick for not being able to love you the way you should be loved and that you should end this relationship

You are a person who is worthy of love

You are worthy

I know this for a fact

**Engineer5** : You know this for a fact?

 

            Damn it.

            Once again, Asami was smiling despite herself. She was smiling through the tears. Through the pain, through the hurt, through the knowledge that she wasn’t going to get herself a happy ending.

            But here was a strange, a random person on the internet who believed in her.

            Or at least said that they believed in her.

            She might not have believed it. She couldn’t bring herself to believe it at all.

            And yet…

            And yet there is this feeling that she couldn’t shake

            Someone, out there, _believed_ in her. No matter if she couldn’t bring herself to believe there in herself, there it was, written in black text against her screen saying, “I believe in you” “I care about you” “you are worthy of love”.

            Everything she ever wanted to, needed to, hear from any of the people she dating over the years, coming from a stranger she paid to interpret her dreams. Even if they were lying to her, it was more than anyone else had ever said to her. She needed to hear it (or read it) regardless of the validity of the person behind the words. And there was no logical way she should believe this Korra person. She couldn’t believe her.

            And yet…

            And yet…

            There was this dream.

            A dream of a field with a person who loved her unconditionally on a perfect, cloudless day.

            Or maybe it wasn’t love.

            Maybe it was blind belief.

            Maybe this unknown, unseen person next to her was the one she was talking to on this damn chatroom at 4 in the morning. Maybe what she needs most is just some blind… oh god she can’t believe she’s even thinking this… maybe she just needs someone to have blind faith in her.

            Maybe this Avatar is the person who believes in her, when she doesn’t believe in herself.

 

**AvatarofDreams** : yes, yes I do know this for a fact

I know this because it’s Avatar Intuition

You get it when you get the job

**Engineer5** : I don’t have many friends

**AvatarofDreams** : I’d be happy to be your friend

Anytime or any place

**Engineer5** : I may be texting you constantly from the time I wake up to the time I…

**AvatarofDreams** : You can text me whenever you like

 

**(Unknown number)** : My name is Asami by the way

**Korra** : Sounds like the name of a kickass warrior woman who breaks hearts and owns continents

**Asami** : Not continents, just a few buildings downtown

**Korra** : A few?!

Shit I only own… a couch?

Do I even own that?

I don’t even rent this apartment…

**Asami** : I was kidding

It’s just the company I work for

**Korra** : see? You’re clearly talented and amazing and all sorts of cool

You can do this

**Asami** : Thank you Korra

Thank you so much

I don’t think you know what this means to me

**Korra** : I’ve got a vague idea

But if you ever need someone to believe in you, I’m here for you

**Asami** : I don’t believe you’re real

**Korra** : Why not?

**Asami** : No one I’ve ever met is this cool, this…

**Korra** : Perfect

**Asami** : Sure

**Korra** : I’m kidding

I’m not perfect

Far from it

But I’m just here to help people

You seem like you need help. And I’d like to help you

**Asami** : I think I’d like the help

 

            The dream shifted that night. Shifted ever so slightly.

            The only thing that changed was the words that cut through the storm.

            “I believe in you. You can do this.”

            She felt someone holding on to her hand like it was the last safe harbor. There was strength in the contact, safety.

            The storm didn’t seem that bad.

            Even as the lightning got closer and closer and the heat grew to blistering levels.


	3. (Barely)(Good)Enough

_I’ve seen your face/look at me/like I’m nothing_

            Asami’s relationship was… enough.

            A strange word ‘enough’.

            In cooking enough is the perfect amount. In an apartment enough is great, just the right amount of space.

            In life, in relationships, enough is slow death. Enough is an investment in time and management that isn’t even remotely worth it.

            At all.

            Enough in a relationship is terrible.

            The cruel irony is that enough isn’t.

            Not for her. Not like this.

            He was there for her. Most of the time.

            They talked about things. Sometimes important things, often times not. They talked most of the time, but not often enough.

            Together, when they were together, it was enough.

            When they were together Asami was contented, full enough, loved enough.

            When they were no longer together Asami was immediately engulfed by a vast emptiness that only grew more and more each time they were together and then parted.

            That’s the thing about enough: is that each time it gets less and less… well… enough.

            Asami knew that.

            Or at least her heart knew that.

            Her feelings knew that.

            Her soul knew that this wasn’t good enough anymore. This was unsustainable. She needed more. She wanted more. She wanted just to feel loved.

            But her head was another beast all together.

            Her head knew it all in the same way her heart knew all these things.

            Her head knew that she wasn’t going to get any better than this. That this relationship would be enough for now. For the rest of her life. She could live with this.

            Because when it worked, the few times it worked, she felt so happy, so alive. She was content.

            What else could she expect?

            Why would anyone love her the way she wanted to? Some mysterious person she sees in the unreality of her dreams? Yeah, like that would ever happen. That was just some subconscious nonsense trying to make her feel better.

            Wishful thinking.

            Asami Sato is an asshole. She’s judgmental, mean, terrible to people who prove themselves to not be worthy of her time or attention. She’s equally cold and needy. She’s a workaholic that leaves little time for a social life. She never makes time for people because she doesn’t quite know what to do with them. In a relationship she’s difficult because she needs space and constant attention.

            Who could love someone like that? Someone so far at the end of both spectrums that it is surprising that her head doesn’t explode from the mental gymnastics she goes through every day.

            That was why she clung so hard to the relationship she did have. It was enough to get her by in those few moments when it was there. Even if in those moments when the relationship wasn’t there she was being swallowed by the emptiness it created in its absence.

            Does she give up the void, this consuming relationship, that she knew would rip everything out of her? Does she hope, pray, that there’s something, someone, better out there for her?

            The relationship was enough. That’s what she felt, that’s what she knew.

            It was enough for her. To give herself fully to someone else. To make sure they were happy even it if meant sacrificing her own. There was a certain amount of joy in that, isn’t there? There was something in making someone else happy. Its own kind of catharsis, a kind of “at least I can do this, at least I can make them happy”. It’s a way for Asami to feel useful, to feel good.

            There’s something to that, isn’t there?

            There’s something to it, giving all of herself for someone else’s happiness. In some kind of perverse way it made her happy. His joy was her joy, reflected back.

            Even if she knows that the reflection was empty and hollow, just intangible beams of light representing happiness.

            But it’s all she’s got.

            Well that’s no longer true is it?

            She’s got this great Korra person on her phone telling her that she’s great and amazing and she deserves all the happiness in the world.

            This strange person that she met online at one of the weakest points of her life that she’s had in recent memory. This strange person that is amazing and trying to convince Asami that someone believes in her.

            At times, usually upon waking from another dream she doesn’t want, she can almost believe Korra.

            Almost.

            Not often though.

            It’s been a couple of days. They text quite often for two people who have only had a couple of conversations before.

            Usually it’s about nothing.

            But to have someone, anyone, seem genuinely interested in Asami, in her day, how she’s doing, how she’s sleeping enough to ask her over and over again, every day, was something she’s never quite experienced. And every time her phone buzzed with a new text she got a little thrill, a little smile.

 

**Korra** : How’s your day been going? Did you sleep well?

**Asami** : Pretty ok thanks for asking

And no, no sleep

**Korra** : Aww :(

Sleep is good

**Asami** : but coffee is delicious

**Korra** : That’s true

**Asami** : How was your day last night? Have a good shift?

**Korra** : It was alright, very slow

At least I got paid for sitting around and working out

**Asami** : Multitasking!

**Korra** : A wonderful thing

Have you had any progress?

**Asami** : I don’t know if I can do it

**Korra** : Yes, yes you can

**Asami** : I don’t know

**Korra** : I believe in you

**Asami** : shit

I’ve got to go

He’s texting me

I’ll talk to you later

**Korra** : Good luck <3 I believe in you

 

            She got a text from him. Or well, _the_ text from him.

            The “we need to talk” text.

            And that brief good feeling she gets from talking to Korra had vanished, blown away by the storm that had finally made landfall.

            The message was simple and it was beautiful in its simplicity and the pain that it caused.

            “we need to talk”

            So many things undone by such a simple phrase.

            They didn’t talk though. Not in traditional terms.

            And for once, Asami was glad. She preferred to text. The crying and the anxiety and the ugly, angry faces she was making would not have gone over well in person, or on the phone. Neither would that angry, guttural yells of “I fucking knew it!” or “fucking goddamn shit you fucking pieces of shit”. Not to mention the desperate, needy pleas she was making out loud and in text that she regretted giving voice to the instant it was out there.

            Her thoughts and feelings were all over the place. She couldn’t decide if this was something she wanted, something she needed, or something she desperately hoped to avoid.

            The relationship talk. A terrible thing. A conversation few people ever want to have. One that is terrible to hear once, let alone multiple times over a life.

            Even though Asami knew she needed to be free of this storm, this barely there good enough relationship, in that moment she couldn’t bear to let it go.

            There was nothing she could do to make him stay. No plea, no offer, no bargain, no sacrifice would keep him.

            As she sat in the shower, scaling hot water wafting steam all around her but doing nothing for the freezing chill she felt underneath her skin, and let the anxiety attack run its course, Asami couldn’t decide which part of herself to listen to.

            The part that knew this had to end.

            The part that knew it couldn’t last.

            The part that wanted nothing more than to go back to the way it was.

            The part that wanted him to be happy, because damn it she loved him.

            The part that wanted him to die alone and miserable like her.

            The part that still loved him.

            The part that hated him for the chilling void in her heart that he never bothered to try and fill.

            The part that hated him more than anything for saying that there was someone else (even though she knew this already) and that he didn’t love her anymore like all of the love she offered to him over the years meant nothing.

            The part that hated him for repeating those same exact words she heard from the last person to break her heart.

            The part that loved him and his smile and his eyes and his hair and that little snort he did when caught off guard by a lame joke.

            She didn’t know what part to listen to. One of them, more than one, all of them. It was too much

            So she just let the anxiety shake her muscles, the water turn her skin red with heat, and her heart freeze over. She just sat in the shower and cried.

            At some point, an hour, six hours, a century later, Asami left the shower and saw her phone.

            Three messages awaited her attention.

            One, a false promise of a continued friendship from the person who walked away with pieces of her soul, oblivious to the hurt that he caused her and the torment that the false promise achieved.

            And two from Korra.

 

**Korra** : Hey, I hope you’re ok. Cause all things considered I do care for you

Let me know that you’re ok when you have a chance, let me know if you need anything

 

            If Asami had anything left to feel instead of the coursing numbness spreading through her skin, she would have smiled. She would have been touched by Korra’s friendship and concern.

            But as of this moment there was nothing there.

 

**Asami** : Alive

**Korra** : you ok?

Everything ok?

Need me to do anything?

**Asami** : got broken up with

Going to consume enough whiskey to pickle a horse

Will probably surrender to unconsciousness sooner or later

I’ll text you if my liver doesn’t fail tomorrow

**Korra** : oh baby :(

Let me know if you need anything

You can always call me if you want. I’ll be up late and I’ll always listen to whatever you have to say

**Asami** : thanks

But it’s whiskey time

 

            She did try to get drunk. Tried real hard actually.

            But there was something about the whiskey, it turned sour in her mouth. Or maybe it just turned to ash.

            The only whiskey she managed to consume was a couple of shots that made the numbness just this side of bearable, made it easier for her to freeze over her heart enough to crawl into bed and fall asleep without crying.

            Unfortunately, that meant that she dreamt.

            Lightning flew across her mind, and seared through her veins. The blistering heat was everywhere. The storm was upon her and it was focused solely on her destruction.

            She was alone, or felt she was alone, with the lightning striking her again and again and again. Trying to burn her to cinders, reduce her to ash, but for some reason she remained standing amongst the black and grey of the storm.

            She stood against the lightning. She endured its strikes once, twice, a million times. Every time it felt like it was trying to wear her down, burn her away to nothing and she couldn’t understand why it hated her so much.

            Everywhere she looked was storm. Everywhere was lightning and wind and raw heat. There was no rain, no relief, no field with someone who loved her.

            Even in her dreams, Asami was alone.

 

* * *

 

 

            Kora was having dreams of storms too.

            Violent, massive storms of lightning and hurricane winds without the relief of rain.

            Something precious, someone precious, was caught out in that storm. Who it was, was something Korra could never quite remember or recall properly. She just knew in her bones with the force of that dream logic that someone was out there in that storm that was killing the field and taking away the sky

            She couldn’t abandon that person, whoever they were to her.

            But how could she help? How could she brave that storm, again? What else would this storm take from her that it hadn’t taken already? Would this storm finally take her life?

            Maybe it was better to stay here. Maybe it was better to trust that person who was caught in the storm would be ok, like she is. Was. Once.

            But at the same time, it took so long for her to pick up the pieces, to find the missing shards of her fractured soul by herself. Maybe the storm will rip the pieces from her again, maybe she’ll lose everything this time. She hadn’t finishing putting herself together, if she ventured back out there it might break everything out of her, and she’d be worse off than before. Maybe her fractured soul would finally be lost for good.

            Or maybe she can help someone else.

            Maybe she can save them some of the time and the pain that she once endured.

            She took a deep breath and felt real air in her lungs despite the fantastical scape of the dream, and walked on unsteady legs into the storm.


	4. (Storm)(Wreaked)

_Stole my patience stole my pride/Snatched the rhythm from my stride/kick my certainty up the middle/knocked the wind out of my romantic side_

            When Asami woke up the next day she wasn’t entirely sure what she felt. Well, besides weary. Defeated even.

            There was no great sadness, or even great fury at her circumstances anymore. There wasn’t anything she could do to feel more than defeat at the whole thing.

            She even tried to do some stuff that she usually found relaxing, calming, restoring.

            Asami went to her garage, and started to try and take apart the engine she was working on. If nothing else the use of her hands should relax her.

            But then after staring at the engine, a tool in her hands, for a whole ten minutes she realized that she had the wrong wrench. This tool wouldn’t do what she wanted it to. This wasn’t even something she could use on an engine of this size.

            What the hell was she doing?

            She put down the equipment and left the place that was once a refuge, and walked the long walk back to her apartment. She turned on the TV and just stared at the moving images. What they were, what they were about, if they ever gave her any sense of joy at any point in time, she didn’t know.

            At some point, time was hard to differentiate, she got a text message.

 

**Korra** : Worried about you a little bit. You ok?

 

            Responding would have required expending effort.

            Responding would have required that she be anything besides defeated.

            She really didn’t want to respond.

 

**Korra** : You don’t even have to say anything of any worth.

Just a meaningless jumble of letters to let me know that you’re still alive

**Asami** : sdgho

**Korra** : Thanks <3

I hope you’re doing ok

 

            Asami settled into a routine of sorts. She functioned. She went to work. She ate food because she had to. But so very little of it had taste or value to her.

            Every day Korra would text, just to see if she’s alive. Even share a few jokes that never got a response out of her.

            Most days Asami would respond.

            Korra slowly engrained herself into the routine. She made herself a part of Asami’s life one little “are you ok today?” text at a time.

            Slowly, bits at a time, Asami weathered the storm.

            She was still having dreams of storms, of lightning heat. She kept having dreams that felt more real than fake. But she had long ago stopped giving a shit.

            She didn’t even care that the faceless person found her once again, even amidst the terror of the storm and the lightning. She couldn’t care that this person helped her, sheltered her, brought her through the storm in less pieces than she would have assumed was possible.

            Asami needed sleep, even if she didn’t feel rested after she got it. Besides the fact that her body was demanding it, she needed something to do for six or seven hours that she didn’t have to be awake, thinking.

            At least when she slept, when she dreamt, she could very easily lie to herself about the realness of the dream. She could tell herself that it was all fake, it was all her subconscious. It was all some hyper-realistic nonsense that was invented by her brain. Despite whatever spiritual beliefs Korra had about the spirit world and some metaphysical stuff trying to interfere (“help” is what Korra would say) with the physical world.

            Some days were better than other. Some days she could feel smiles, she could feel better about everything. Even if he was still on her mind more often than not, even if he was the first thing she thought of when she woke up.

            Oh how she wished she could relegate him to the distant past, to a faded memory. She wanted to stop thinking of him every day. She wanted to stop living in the shadow of his storm. She wanted the memory of him to stop haunting her, hunting her. His ghost was a dream and a nightmare, a pain she mistook for pleasure and couldn’t stop herself from going back to.

            Her dreams still haunted her, as her thoughts of him still haunted her.

            One day she swore she’d be free of this.

            Free.

            And alone.

 

**Korra** : You ok today?

 

            It’s been well over a month (or has it been two? Even though the breakup date is seared in her mind she can’t figure out how much time has passed between then and now) of this. Korra texting her. Korra concerned. Korra caring about her wellbeing. Korra there when she actually wanted to talk. Korra being ok with her silences sometimes.

            Ok, so it had been two months, almost three, when she woke up one day and didn’t feel quite as defeated, quite as wrecked.

            She felt… alright.

            Definitely not good, nowhere near it. But she felt… fine.

            She felt good enough.

            Which was a strange thing to feel, especially after how long that feeling of “good enough” made her feel so uncontrollably empty.

 

**Asami** : Good enough

**Korra** : Is that a good thing or a bad thing?

**Asami** : For right now, for today, it’s a good thing

**Korra** : Well that’s something isn’t it?

**Asami** : It is, I guess

**Korra** : You want to see something super silly?

**Asami** : sure

 

            What followed was a picture of a very sad looking fridge. One of those small fridges kids get when they go to college. This one was full of things: sad, droopy vegetables; various things in bottles; several different kinds of sauces; wet looking boxes. The fridge was fuller than any fridge should reasonably be. And Asami couldn’t help but notice there was a small puddle on the floor being sopped up by numerous towels.

 

**Asami** : Oh no what happened?

**Korra** : Broccoli

**Asami** : Broccoli?

**Korra** : Damn broccoli

I’m trying to be all healthy and crap so I buy some fresh veggies to go with the meat I was going to cook up today

But the damn broccoli apparently didn’t fit in the fridge

Propped open the door all morning

Pretty much everything is ruined

Well some of it is salvageable

**Asami** : that is so sad

**Korra** : yeah tell me about it :(

**Asami** : it’s not as sad as this though

 

            After taking a few minutes to get it looking good enough to take a picture, Asami took a picture of her own fridge.

            A full sized fridge, but sparsely populated with takeout containers, a half bottle of milk, a bottle of orange juice that was perhaps way too old. It was almost totally empty.

 

**Korra** : Wow that is sad

**Asami** : yup

I might have thrown out some stuff that was becoming sentient before taking the picture….

**Korra** : good lord

Is there anything in there that is even remotely edible?

**Asami** : Um…

The milk hasn’t expired yet.

**Korra** : When does it go bad?

**Asami** : oops…

It went bad three days ago

‘-_-

**Korra** : Oh no!

**Asami** : I don’t want to go grocery shopping

It’s the worst chore

**Korra** : it’s not that bad

**Asami** : It. Is. The. Worst.

Also I can’t cook

**Korra** : But you’re an engineer, how can you not cook?

**Asami** : Those aren’t even remotely similar things!

**Korra** : Yeah it is!

You just have to follow instructions

Replace chemicals with spices

Gratuitous amounts of heat and potential for burning

Replace a forge with a stove

It’s all the same

**Asami** : Do you even know what a forge is used for?

What exactly do you think an engineer does?

**Korra** : You know, I just kind of assumed it was a modern day blacksmith.

**Asami** : I mean close enough

Though I’m not using a forge and anvil

But I do like to build cars by hand

**Korra** : Wow

That’s actually more amazing than blacksmith

**Asami** : :)

 

            She’d all but forgotten what socializing was like.

            Actually, really, socializing. And not the kind of “socializing” that happens when she leaves the house or goes to work or to meetings or orders more coffee from Starbucks than is reasonable.

            This was an actual connection to someone else.

            And she felt something there for a second, beyond the numbness and the routine.

            Perhaps she was starting to be happy again.

            What a world.

            She actually felt like that smiley face was a real thing, and not a faked emotion, not an imitation.

            In her dreams Asami was back to being loved for who she was under a sky of breathtaking blue. In the waking world she had a friend who believed in her unconditionally.

            She was progressing, one millimeter at a time she was getting better.

            And part of her getting better was the way she started to build around her heart. She was defending herself, walling herself off.

            The wall was small, but it was growing. The only thing that could get in where dreams, and a girl named Korra.


	5. (Repaired)(Stress Fractures)

_Tales of an endless heart/cursed is the fool whose willing/can’t change the way we are/one kiss away from killing it_

            It had been a few days since she talked to Korra.

            Well actually talked, like they did last time. Or at least more so than the few words she texted to the girl she never properly met.

            She occupied herself lately. She finally found herself in enough control over her own mind to throw herself back into her projects. Not good projects that would result in something for work, no this was all for herself. This was frivolous stuff that just kind of made her happy, just a little bit.

            For a solid two weeks she was practically living out of her garage. She built an entire motorcycle from scratch. It was a lot of work. Perhaps too much work in too little time. Asami had worked herself into a frenzy, a burning desire, this useless, pointless thing done. She had to do it for no other reason than she wanted to prove that she could.

            Actual work, the kind that she got paid to do, was still a dry, boring routine that she did mostly out of habit and partially because she had nowhere better to be.

            Still haven’t missed a day, still haven’t called in sick.

            She just worked through it.

            And it wasn’t like her dreams got any worse either.

            They just kind of remained. Still pressing in on that thin vein between reality and dreams. Still the occasional lightning searing through her soul. Still that unknowable, foreign presence standing there beside her, hiding behind a face she didn’t know.

            Asami was pretty sure she figured out the dreams though, real as they may feel. She was pretty sure that the storm was her unhappiness, which still popped up now again when he burst into her thoughts unbidden. The unknown presence, that other person, well that wasn’t someone that actually existed. That was just hope. Hope personified. Hope that she still had someone out there that would be ok for her.

            Hope. A feeling from her heart that was unsupported against the evidence from her head.

            Hope: illogical and likely false feelings.

            Evidence: broken up with twice, under similar circumstances. Broken up with twice for someone else.

            Once is bad luck. Twice is a pattern.

            And just as she started to slip backwards into the funk, as the pendulum started to swing back towards depression, she’d somehow always get a text from Korra.

 

**Korra** : How’s it been going lately?

**Asami** : Finished up a big project

Starting to wonder what to do with myself

**Korra** : What was the project?

 

            Asami looked over the motorcycle. It wasn’t painted yet. She hadn’t actually taken it for a ride yet. She just knew that it worked. It probably worked. Might also be a death trap. Might also be the fastest thing on two wheels that she ever put together. Might also be illegal to take on the streets for one or both of those reasons. But she took a picture and sent it anyways.

 

**Asami** : It’s a work in progress

**Korra** : It’s gorgeous!

**Asami** : aww thanks

**Korra** : You built that? With your hands?

**Asami** : Yup these grease stained hands.

 

            Asami took a picture of her right hand and sent it. It was more black and oily than it was skin. There were cuts and a burn or two. She broke three of her nails. Overall it wasn’t a pretty looking hand, but it was hers and it felt good to have dirty hands again. And she knew it would probably feel amazing after a shower and cleaning it everything up.

 

**Asami** : The other one is just as bad

**Korra** : I don’t know

You have pretty hands

Compared to mine anyways

**Asami** : Doubt it

 

            Korra’s hands weren’t exactly what Asami expected, because she didn’t know what she expected.

            Her left hand looked smaller than Asami’s own. It was thicker though, callused, worn. Her skin was bronzed, tanned. It looked like she might have been biting her nails.

            Overall, however, she was struck by the impression that those were strong hands. And she couldn’t really figure out why she thought that.

            Strong hands. Warm hands.

            Korra hands.

 

**Asami** : I like the look of your hands

**Korra** : :)

You might be the only person that does

The don’t look as good as yours though

**Asami** : the secret is lotion

**Korra** : Oh crap

I’ve just been using the blood of the innocent this whole!

All of that time wasted!

**Asami** : lol :)

 

            Somehow, a tradition was born of that conversation.

            The two would be talking about something, anything really, and suddenly they’d both share pictures of that topic.

            Desks. Comfy chairs. Whatever they were watching on TV. The sky outside their windows at 3am. Warm caffeinated beverages they happen to be drinking at the same time. Lots of pictures with captions like ‘ugh work’ filled with computer screens for Korra and paperwork and blueprints for Asami. Pictures of comfy chairs and the views that come with them.

            It was a game and it was fun.

            Also Asami was a stickler for getting the picture just right. Making sure things were in the right places, maybe tidying up a little bit to make it seem like she wasn’t this messy disaster. Getting everything to look exactly right, the way she wanted it to look to the world.

            But it was pretty obvious that Korra did not. She just took pictures immediately. Aesthetics or clean lines or mess be damned.

            It was something Asami appreciated.

            However, neither of them had every really progressed into selfie territory yet. Which Asami wasn’t sure if she was more grateful or curious about that.

            But it was certainly entertaining.

            With Korra it was always entertaining.

            The girl, who she never met and was slowly learning about via text conversations and picture competitions, was a bright spot, a little anchor in her storm.

            Or at least that was how Asami liked to think of her. Who knows if she actually was all the things Asami wanted her to be, because in reality Korra wasn’t truly there when she was lost at sea so to speak.

            But she knew that sooner or later that pendulum would swing back and she’d catch that depression slump hard. It was coming, there’s no way this up swing would last this long and keep going.

            However, she was relishing the little nuggets of information she was learning about Korra.

            She definitely believes in spirits even if she wasn’t good at the whole spirituality thing.

            She loves working out and being physical.

            She hates mornings more than anything in the world.

            She likes to cook, but isn’t very good at it. “Passable” is how she describes it whenever she sends Asami a picture of something she made.

            She loves helping people. Which is why she dedicates her time volunteering when she’s not working.

            She has some stupidly amazing arm muscles.

            And her dreams started to level out too. They returned to that same being loved for who she was dream, but those were easily dismissed. And besides, Asami’s usual sleeping habit was to not sleep as much as possible anyways. A lengthy amount of sleep was like three or four hours.

            The skies in her dreams was back to being blue and vibrant, with only the occasional blast of lightning.

            Asami was starting to get used to having good days consistently when she saw him. Out in public with the girl he dumped Asami for. They were happy. They were hand hold-y. They were everything Asami wanted, used to have.

            And it burned deeper than the thought it would have.

            All those chants in front of the bathroom mirror, day after day, of “you don’t love him anymore and he never loved _you_ ”, all that progress she’d been pushing forward with, all of that collapsed in that lightning flash.

            He didn’t see her. Or if he did, he didn’t acknowledge her or her pain. And that might have been the part that hurt the most. The true knowledge of just how hollow the words “I hope we can still be friends” truly were.

            Part of her, the illogical part, the bitter part, hated him. How dare he be happy. Fuck him. He should at least be as miserable as her. He shouldn’t get a happy ending while her soul is still torn into pieces.

            The other part, the part that still loved him a little, the logical part, the one that knew and understood why he broke up with her hated herself for being so bitter. He did deserve to be happy. She can’t really be mad at him for that. Even if she desperately wished that she was the one to give that happiness to him.

            Still, she was pissed and bitter and sad and defeated.

            All of those emotions, to get ambushed with at once, was exhausting.

            Lucky for her, less lucky for her liver, Asami was basically done for this day whatever else she had to do could just as easily be accomplished while on auto-pilot and not really engaging with the material.

            She did make sure to get some whiskey before going back to her place. The whiskey cost less than the mixes and snacks did. Which, objectively, she knew would only mean regret and sadness.

            But fuck it. Fuck it all.

            If the lightning storm was going to invade her real life like this then rotgut whiskey will burn so much hotter than any emotional pain she felt from breakups and dreams of things never real.

            And sure enough it did burn, she could feel the lining of her stomach and esophagus burning away.

            “Worth it,” Asami said as she slammed the first of what she assumed would be several shots through the night.

            At some point Asami blacked out, which was a feeling she absolutely hated. The loss, the absence of memory, of a defect in her otherwise brilliant mind sickened her more than the headache from the inevitable hangover ever would. And as much as she hated it, she was so numb to it that she couldn’t bring herself to feel shame or remorse or anything besides numbness and resignation. It was a good thing she built up plenty of sick days, so no one would miss her at work too badly.

            In her bathroom, the next morning as she stumbled her way to the toilet to throw up in, she saw a lipstick message on the mirror.

            “FUCK him and his happiness”

            Ugh, she licked that shade of red. But on the other hand it was the same shade she used when she would go out with him. So maybe it was a wash.

            Asami spent the day feeling the worst of her hangover and being the worst kind of lazy.

            She fell asleep on the couch a few times. Although to call it sleep would be generous. It was more like passing out a few times as her drunk hadn’t quite given up its hold on her systems.

            Perfect, dreamless, unconsciousness.

            Sure she didn’t feel rested in any sense after it. Sure she felt nauseous and her head was pounding and she was seriously considering hoping for death. But she didn’t have taunting dreams of being loved by someone who had no identity of dreams she was being reduced to ash by repeated and unmerciful lightning strikes.

            There was only so much pleasure she could derive from it while dry heaving in the bathroom. As terrible as the feeling was, Asami wasn’t willing to let go of the drunk, so she spent a few minutes dry heaving in the bathroom and then poured herself some more whiskey and added in more coke than she usually did.

            Korra, meanwhile, was growing a little concerned.

            And for Korra “a little concerned” was a kind to most people’s full blown category-5 worry. (Which no one to date had yet witnessed a sense of Korra brand worry worthy of the label of category-5)

            Asami had texted her once, just once in the last two days.

            And all it said was, “Fuck him AND HIS HAPPNES”

            At first Korra laughed to herself, responded, and waited for Drunk Asami to either drunkenly explain, or hungoverly apologize. But neither had come.

            Then there were Korra’s dreams. She had long ago suspected that Asami was the person she was meeting in her dreams, the one plagued by storms. So when Drunk Asami texts her and then doesn’t respond for two days and the person doesn’t appear in her dreams any longer. Well, Korra gets a little concerned.

            Because there’s only two types of people that don’t dream: the unconscious and the dead.

            Either one of those was a concerning thought.

            Korra texted her once more. A quick, “Please let me know you’re still alive” text, but there was a continuing, concerning silence.

            After another day, for a total of 72 hours of no contact Korra was starting to worry and more importantly started weighing the “how much does Asami need privacy” versus the “how much do I care if she’s alive” and the “how can I possibly track down an Asami in Republic City?”

            But she didn’t do anything besides sending one more text. But there was once more, no response. She tried to sleep. But she was too concerned, too worried, too nervous she’d fall asleep and not find Asami in her dreams again.

            But eventually Korra did fall asleep.

            There was a very noticeable absence next to her. The field wasn’t nearly as green, the tea wasn’t as warm. And there was not a trace of lightning.

            Asami however, hadn’t seen Korra’s initial response, she must have read the text while drunk and never responded.

            She did get and see the second text. And she knew she should respond, but there was whiskey to drink, and the abyss to gaze into.

            Some distant part of her mind, one of the few pieces that hadn’t been crushed into silence by booze, was rolling its eyes at her high school emo nonsense. She was a little drunk, at 3am, in a park that was supposed to be closed, listening to the waves of the ocean.

            The city lights were all behind her, and before her stretched an almost unbroken line of darkness. The ocean gave to light, the overcast sky blocked out the stars and the moon.

            Her breath came out as a shudder, released, shaking, into the cool ocean wind.

            It looked so much like an abyss, like this was a window into the rest of universe. And the rest of the universe was cold, and black, and empty, and vast, and could swallow Asami’s whole world and nothing and no one would ever notice.

            Feelings rose in her chest like balloons, putting pressure on her heart and throat. Her spine tingled with each exhale.

            Overwhelmed. Exposed. Insignificant. Defeated. Alone. Bare. Apprehensive. Awe-struck.

            At some point before dawn she returned home, unable to respond to Korra. Because honest, what could she say to “are you ok?”

            She really didn’t know if she was.


	6. (Help)(A Friend)(In Need)

_Nothing better to do/when I’m stuck on you/and I’m still here/trying to figure it out/getting hard to sleep/but it’s in my dreams/but it’s killing me_

            For the second late, late night in a row, Asami found herself a little drunk, starring out into the totally black ocean.

            It wasn’t quite 3am yet, but it was close.

            She was so lost in the swelling of emotions in her chest that when her phone rang she skipped right over surprise and confusion and went straight to picking it up.

            “Yeah?” she asked. Hopefully, it was work, some kind of emergency that she needed to attend to right away, something to distract her for a while.

            “Asami?” came a voice that she didn’t recognize.

            “Yeah?” she said again, this time more cautiously.

            “Um… it’s Korra.” There was a significant, and significantly awkward pause. “Sorry. I was just worried about you. You haven’t answered any of my texts and then I started to fear that you were dead in a ditch somewhere or stuck in an elevator or kidnapped by anarchists or something. I don’t know. Sorry. I shouldn’t have called so late. Sorry.”

            This was the first time she heard Korra’s voice since they’ve started talking. It wasn’t at all what Asami assumed it would have sounded like. But she found herself appreciating it all the same.

            “No, it’s fine,” she answered. Thank you terrible whiskey for making this awkward conversation bearably awkward for the moment. “Sorry I made you worry.”

            “I didn’t wake you or anything, did I?” Korra asked again, searching for any evidence that she did wrong.

            “No. I’ve just been on a bender. Took a long weekend off work. Don’t want to deal with a hangover so I just… didn’t stop drinking.”

            “That sounds exhausting.”

            “It really is. Now I’m just staring out into the deep darkness that is the ocean, marveling at it all, feeling small.”

            “And writing sad poetry?” Asami could pretty much _hear_ the smile in Korra’s voice.

            “God no. Nothing that emo. Or at least not yet.”

            “So how’s the ocean?”

            “Calming, all encompassing, dark. Well, except for Air Temple Island. There’s a bunch of lights on and it ruins the illusion a bit.”

            “Oh! Hold on one second.”

            There was a minute of silence and then the brightest lights on Air Temple Island suddenly shut off.

            “Better?” Korra asked.

            “What? How?” Asami asked.

            “Well I’m in my room. On Air Temple Island. I live there…”

            “Oh. So how does it feel to tell some girl you met online that you’ve never seen in person where you live?”

            “Well I trust you. That and I’m writing an email to my parents. Dear mom and dad, if I die Asami did it. Love Korra.”

            “Curses! Foiled again!”

            The lights on the Island flipped back on. “Sorry. I kinda need to see what I’m doing.”

            “Don’t worry about it.” _I like it knowing that you’re the little bastion of light out there in the deep and the dark_. But of course Asami didn’t say that.

            “Well I’ll let you get back to your thoughts. Sorry for calling but I worry.”

            “It’s ok. I won’t do it again.”

            “Even if you just respond with ‘alive’ or ‘bad day’ or that middle finger emoji, that’ll be enough for me. I’ll stop being so pushy.”

            “But I like knowing that you care.”

            “I’m your friend, right?”

            “Yeah…”

            “Well this is what I’m like with friends, very concerned for them all the time. Just let me know what you need.”

            “Thanks Korra.”

            “Good night Asami.”

            “I don’t think you can see me from way out there, put I’m on the Point waving at you.”

            “I think I see a very tiny dot. Oh man you look super short.”

            “I am not short!”

            “Sounds exactly like something a tiny person would say.”

            “Good night Korra.”

            “Good night Asami.”

            The pair finally hung up after their third goodbyes.

            Korra spent the rest of the night with Asami’s voice in her head. It sent shivers through her spine like cold water. She thought it wasn’t possible for a voice to sound so much like silk. No not silk, heavier than that. Velvet. Deep, maroon velvet. That was Asami’s voice.

            At this point in time Korra was steadfastly convinced that Asami was stupidly attractive. Even though she hadn’t even seen her yet.

            Besides, even if Korra had a crush on her (which she didn’t) there is no way in hell that was the kind of thing Asami needed in her life at this moment. She was still raw and hurting from her breakup and it would be unethical and mean for Korra (or anyone for that matter) to prey on her vulnerable emotions like that.

            Not that Asami couldn’t handle herself…

            And what’s the point of thinking about all this? Korra doesn’t have a crush on her. She doesn’t even know if Asami even likes girls.

            What is she thinking?

            Oh spirits, someone’s accessing the Avatar of Dreams site. Something to take Korra’s mind off of it.

            Once again the two of them were communicating. They talked about everything and nothing. Raiko, the unrest in the Earth Kingdom (is it really even a Kingdom at this point? Korra asked), sports (that Asami only has a passing bit of knowledge from having the TV on in the background as she’s elbow deep in an engine), what kind of super power they’d each like to have (ok, but what if it was lame? Like, you can only psychically lift something that weighs less than three pounds?), cars (which was mostly just Asami gushing about some new design), a bit about their pasts (but neither was keen on the details). There were only two topics they never talked about: their love lives, and their dreams. Korra said she hadn’t had any serious prospects in a while so there was nothing to talk about, and it was still too raw for Asami. And Asami figured that Korra got paid for talking about dreams and she didn’t want to burden her with it on her off hours.

            Day by day, millimeter by millimeter, Asami was getting happier. She wasn’t quite there yet, but she was content. She didn’t think of him all the time anymore. And when she did it was only with the smallest hints of bitterness. If she caught sight of him and his happiness, the twinge of… not regret… but nostalgia for what was once hers. It wasn’t a gut wrenching stab and twist of the knife. It wasn’t the cold, slow draining of blood through an open wound. It was just an unpleasant twinge she’d sooner forget about, but alas.

            She’d knew they’d never have worked out. She knew that for a fact now. It was inevitable. That did a lot to lessen the pain.

            But even more so was having Korra to talk to. Or rant at would be a more apt description. And Korra always listened. Whenever she felt the need to just angry rant or “scream into the void for a bit” as she’d like to say, Korra was always more than happy to listen to anything and everything she had to say.

            Asami made a new habit of going to the Point, to the peninsula out into Yue Bay to watch the little lights on Air Temple Island as she complained to Korra. She may feel like she was screaming into the void, but there was always that distant little prick of light that made Asami feel so much less alone.

            Unfortunately, they never talked on the phone, with voices, again. There was a strange taboo about it that had settled on them. And as much as they each liked hearing the other’s voice, neither of them admitted to it.

            That is, until Asami’s dream turned again.

            The dreams were much the same as always, a warm and comfy date, the bluest of blue skies, an endless field of green, she was loved, and the person there with her was still unidentifiable. But at this point Asami didn’t care. She was content her for now.

            Yet, over the last few weeks things started to change. There was a visible, perceptible realness to the dream. Even more so. Beyond the dream logic of “this is this way because” and the sleeping mind buying it, the things in this dream had texture, smell, feelings. The hand she was holding was rough, callused, worn, dry, warm, sun kissed, amazing. Now those hands were slowly slipping away.

            The earth was moving beneath her. She felt that something from beneath her was threatening to swallow her up.

            But then all of a sudden the person next to her was gone, swallowed by the earth. Large chains erupted from the ground and pulled the mystery person into the ground. Swallowed her whole, buried her alive.

            On the second day the dream was the same, Asami woke up very concerned for some reason, outright worried.

            She tried to push the feelings away, to make the dreams that felt hyper-real stay in her dream world.

            But when Korra was suspiciously quiet all day, only responding with as few words as possible, Asami decided that her dream worry would be better served by being worried about Korra instead.

 

 **Asami** : Hey, you ok today? You’re being pretty quiet. And I can’t explain it, but I’m worried about you.

 **Korra** : Fine

 **Asami** : Ok, but I’m here for you if you need anything

 **Korra** : Don’t want to burden you

 **Asami** : I’m here for you regardless

Besides it would be mean if I wasn’t here for you to vent at after all the times you where there for me

I’d like to return the favor if ever you need to talk

 

            Korra was quiet for quite a while. Then she finally texted Asami back.

 

 **Korra** : I know it’s late

I don’t want to bother you

But can I call you?

 **Asami** : Absolutely

 **Korra** : If you want to sleep you can totally go to bed instead

 **Asami** : Sleep is the for the weak

And for people who don’t have Korra’s to talk to

 

            Without waiting for her, Asami made her way to the Point to watch the little prick of light on Air Temple Island and called Korra.

            “What’s going on?” Asami asked. “Can I do anything?”

            Korra sighed heavily. “Hey Asami. How are you doing?”

            “Ok, weird dreams, the usual.”

            “Want to talk about it?”

            “Korra,” Asami sighed, finding the one hand not holding up her phone was on her hip. “You’re the one not having a good day. Clearly. I can hear it in your voice.”

            “You can hear that?”

            “Yeah, I just know you too well apparently.”

            “Fine,” Korra groans.

            “If you don’t want to talk about it, you don’t have to. I just want you to know that I’m here for you.”

            “I just don’t want you to be burdened by me.”

            “You’re not a burden Korra, you’ll never be a burden.”

            “Thanks Asami. You’re the best friend I’ve got.”

            “And you’re my best friend too,” Asami finally admitted out loud.

            “I’ve been having a series of… reoccurring nightmares. Of some stuff I thought I put behind me. It wasn’t pleasant. And I hate it,” Korra answered.

            “That sucks. But it’s over now, right? You’re past it, you survived.”

            “That’s true,” Korra said, clearly not believing Asami.

            “Want to talk about it?”

            “Uh… not really. But you know, I can give you the broad strokes: evil uncle, poisoning anarchists, some bad shit. But then I moved out, got over it, all that jazz. It just still haunts me a bit.”

            “Fuck, Korra, I’m so sorry.”

            “Why are you sorry? You didn’t know, you didn’t do it.”

            “I’m sorry that you had to go through it at all. You’re too nice, too great to go through that kind of stuff. I’m so sorry.”

            There was a moment of silence. “Thanks.”

            “Is there anything else?”

            “Well that’s the thing. The dreams are coming hard on the heels of some shit at work.”

            “Anything I can do?”

            “Well it turns out that there isn’t really that much money is online dream interpretations.”

            “Oh no.”

            “It’s not that bad. It’s really not. But it will be soon. Some people might be losing their jobs in the next couple of months. Or the whole place might be shutting down. And there’s nothing I can do about it,” Korra complained.

            “I mean… I can help out, if you want,” Asami said. “I’ve got more money than I know what to do with.”

            “No! No! I couldn’t ask you to do that! That would be too much!”

            “You sure?”

            “It’s not… I can’t… It’s not even my business! I just work there!”

            “Well it sounds like it means a whole bunch to you, so if I can help save it, I’d like to help.”

            “Thanks. I think?”

            “At the very least, I mean I know a bunch of business people, accountants, and those kinds of things. I’m sure I can make some calls and have one of a few of them stop by your work and help out.”

            “I think that would be a great idea. But it’s not my business. I’m not in charge of these kinds of decisions. I’ll run it by Tenzin and see what he thinks about it.”

            “I mean I can take care of the costs for these things. I’d be happy to. You helped me so much. I just want to repay you in some way.”

            “Holy crap Asami. You don’t have to repay me for anything.”

            “I want to help. I want to do something for my best friend in her time of need,” Asami said as she watched the lights on Air Temple Island.

            “You’ve done more than you know.”

            “No I haven’t. I’ve complained a bunch at you, and you’ve taken it like a saint.”

            “I’m just being your friend. It’s all I can offer.”

            “Well I’m just being your friend. And this is what I’ve got to offer.”

            Korra was smiling despite herself, blushing slightly.

            Asami continued. “If you ever need anything or want to take me up on my offers, just let me know.”

            “I will.”

            “Make sure that you do.”

            “I will. I promise.”

            “Good. Now, what else can I do for you? Anything?”

            “Nah, I’m fine. Thank you Asami. Thanks for calling me and everything. It’s nice to… It’s nice to hear your voice. And I’m not a fan of doing this stuff over text.”

            “No problem. I like your voice too. So you can feel free to call me anytime. I might not be able to answer all of the time, because you know, work and stuff. But I’ll be here for you.”

            “Cause no one ever told you life was gonna be this way?”

            “Goddamnit.” She could all but see Korra’s shit eating grin over the phone. “I hate you.”

            “No you don’t.”

            “Yeah, you’re right. I love you.”

            Oh. That was a thing that was just said.

            “Yeah, I love you too.”

            That was a response.

            “I should probably get some sleep.”

            “Well, get some sleep. Good night Asami.”

            “Good night Korra.”

            That night her dream returned to normal. Or at least as normal as her dreams had been lately.

            There were no lightning storms, or chains dragging anyone under the earth. It was just peaceful, serene. The sky was blue, the fields were green, the company good.

            And just before she woke up there, she swore she heard a voice on the wind, a familiar voice, “I love you.”


	7. (Revelations)(In the Light of Day)

_We could be friends for a moment/it could be hell_

            Asami and Korra went right back into their old routine: texting all day, and now talking on the phone later in the night (or very early in the morning depending on your definition of morning).

            Asami loved Korra’s voice. It was so… full of emotion, so expressive, so great. And Korra could say the same thing about Asami’s voice. It was the best thing in the world. They were both aware of how much the little bits of contact meant to each other, but they couldn’t quite admit it.

            She didn’t know who the person in the was in her dreams, but as the days went on, as she talked with Korra more and more, she found herself envisioning the person she was enjoying a relaxing, cuddly date was Korra. Even though she’d never even seen her.

            Sure enough, Asami made a few calls and had some business people go to the Avatar of Dreams offices (well less offices and more Tenzin’s house). With some business savvy and help from Asami’s people, Avatar of Dreams would be able to stay open for the foreseeable future.

            Korra was ecstatic. Her job was saved, and Asami was responsible. There was no real way Korra would ever be able to thank her. Even though she said it every time they hung up.

            With every passing day Korra was finding it harder and harder to admit that she didn’t have a crush on Asami. Because she did, she really really did.

            It was the strangest thing, being in love with a person than she never really met. She was in love with a personality, a person on the other end of phone. Korra was in love with a person and their words and none of their physical characteristics. A person and not a face.

            She couldn’t get over the weird feeling.

            Usually attraction starts with “oh hey, he’s cute” or “she’s got nice eyes” or “those are some interesting eyebrows”. Some kind of physical attraction that peaks the interest. This gets the whole thing started, but this has all gone backwards. She’d fallen in love with the person, the words, the character at the other end of the phone.

            Fuck.

            She was in love with Asami (last name unknown).

            And Asami wasn’t doing much better. That damn emotional part of her brain was gushing over Korra, thinking about her every hour of every day. She wanted so badly to get attached again. She wanted to be in love again. But there was the other part of her that was still working on building up that wall. There was no way that part of her was ready to get hurt again, to be vulnerable again. Sure it had been a long time, long enough for Asami to be well and truly over with the whole thing. But at the same time she wasn’t ready to let her guard down.

            Then there was Korra, sweet, amazing, stupidly helpful Korra. And if there was one person she could imagine loving, it was her.

            The whole thing was a swamp of strange feelings and the potential for falling in and drowning. It was overwhelming her.

            But at least for Asami there was still the chance that this whole thing in her mind.

            Korra should have known better. Her whole work was based on dreams. And her dreams were getting more and more vivid. She was utterly convinced that Asami was the one with her in her dreams.

            What really cemented it was when one day Asami texted her a picture of herself. Well not totally of herself. It was of her right eye. Her brilliant green eye, her perfect eye, flawless make up, just a little bit of dark hair falling into place.

 

**Asami** : Some days my makeup game is really on point

 

            Korra was stunned. Asami’s makeup game was on point. She was perfect with it. Korra suspected that she was always perfect with it. But that wasn’t what was stealing her attention.

            The color of Asami’s eyes. That amazing green. That perfect, vibrant, viridian. Her eyes were beautiful, gorgeous, stunning. And that exact same green of the fields in her dreams.

 

**Korra** : wow

**Asami** : What?

**Korra** : Amazing

I mean your makeup is amazing

Stunning really

**Asami** : Flatterer :)

 

            After a few moments of just staring at the picture that Asami sent, those amazing, glorious Asami eyes, she texted back.

 

**Asami** : Any chance I can see your eye?

I mean if you don’t want to you don’t have to

**Korra** : What?

Oh right

Yeah totally

Uh. Give me a second

 

            But that second turned into several long moments as Korra tried to get the right light, the right angle, then she had to make her skin clean and clear.

 

**Asami** : Korra you don’t have to if you don’t want to

I’m just a little curious to see what you look like a little bit

You don’t have to show me anything

**Korra** : no! I do!

I just have to get a picture that doesn’t look terrible

**Asami** : I refuse to believe that you’ll look terrible

Also that never stopped you from sending a picture of whatever stuff was around you before

**Korra** : You clearly have never seen me in real life, because…

Whew not pretty

 

            Finally, the picture was sent. Korra was doing something silly with her eyebrows, raising one suggestively. Both of her amazing blue eyes for Asami to see.

            And it was Asami’s turn to be stunned.

            That blue, that perfect, impossible, dreamlike blue.

            She swore she knew that blue from her dreams, from that perfect, hyper-real dream that was too perfect to be real.

 

**Asami** : I knew it

**Korra** : Knew what?

Knew that I’m a weird looking jackass?

**Asami** : You’ve got some gorgeous eyes

**Korra** : I’m glad you’re not here right now

**Asami** : Why?

**Korra** : the blush I’ve got is really not becoming

**Asami** : 1) who says becoming like that?

2) I bet it’s as cute as the rest of you

 

            “Cute as the rest of you?” Asami asked out loud to herself after she had already sent the text. The damn editing part of her brain seems to have shut off during her conversations with Korra. She never would have said these things, never should have said these things.

            But to Korra, with Korra, these things just came pouring out of her. She felt like she could tell Korra anything and everything and there would be no judgment, no ill will, nothing but acceptance.

            And yet… she couldn’t quite find a way to admit to herself that she was really in love with Korra. That wall was still up, still around, still in her heart. Instead of knocking it down, she found herself reinforcing it whenever she wasn’t talking with Korra.

 

**Korra** : Now who is the flirterer?

FLATERER!

Sorry!

Anyways I’ve got to go, some stuff to do I’ll be quiet for a little while

**Asami** : Ok, have fun!

I’ll miss you!

**Korra** : :) I’ll miss you too

 

            Korra left and then Asami was left with an absence and a silence. She left and Asami had a hole in her life at that moment.

            Then there was those eyes. Which she might have saved on her phone and made the ID picture for Korra. The eyes that were the same color of the sky in her dreams.

            Which she certainly couldn’t talk about with Korra. How the hell would that conversation even go? “Hey Korra, I know we’ve been talking for a while and getting to know each other and you’ve been helping me through some super shit times in my life but I think you’re this person I’ve been dreaming about for the last… shit year or two? I don’t know what that means but I might be in love with you? But I’m broken, emotionless husk of person that doesn’t totally have my soul completely put together yet and I’m beginning to feel that I won’t ever be put together.” Yeah like that wouldn’t sound creepy or ruin that friendship or send Korra running for the hills.

            There was one place she could go to get potential answers for her dream questions. One place that she knew that Korra wouldn’t be at because she wasn’t scheduled for work for another couple of hours.

            Asami logged into the Avatar of Dreams website, paid the little fee and entered the chat.

 

**AvatarofDreams** : Greetings what dream might I interpret for you today?

**Engineer5** : You’re not Korra are you?

**AvatarofDreams** : No. I am Kyoshi. What can I help you with?

**Engineer5** : Sorry. I’ve been having this series of super vivid dreams.

Like realer than real life kind of vivid.

Sometimes they are nice and amazing there’s someone there that I can’t see clearly and they love me totally and without conditions and it’s amazing.

But I’ve never been able to see anything about this person, I just knew that they were there and they were amazing.

Slowly, however I’ve been getting pieces of this person. I see a picture of her hands and her hands are there in my dreams.

And now I’ve just seen her eyes and her eyes are the exact same color as the sky in my dreams and it is perfect.

Is this some crazy psychological thing where I’m just projecting the parts of this person that I kinda like into my dreams?

**AvatarofDreams** : Well it seems pretty clear

If your dreams are as vivid and real as you believe they are, then you are getting into the spirit world.

The spirit world likes to bring people together sometimes.

**Engineer5** : Why does the spirit world give a shit? Why should anyone care about me?

**AvatarofDreams** : Sometimes the spirit world sees someone that needs help, sometimes it just wants to see the people of the world happy.

Sometimes the spirits just see two soulmates so close to getting together but they just aren’t getting there. And they get annoyed and so they send you these dreams as a kind of way of spiritually yelling “MAKE OUT ALREADY!”

**Engineer5** : Really?

**AvatarofDreams** : Absolutely. Or they might be telling you that you need to find this person and punch them in the face.

**Enginner5** : it is only those two options?

**AvatarofDreams** : Kiss them or kick them.

But it sounds like you really need to find this person and tell them that you love them.

**Engineer5** : But I don’t know if I can love them.

**AvatarofDreams** : Really? Because it sounds like you really care. A lot.

**Engineer5** : No I meant I don’t know if I’m emotionally capable of loving her

**AvatarofDreams** : Well, I think that’s something you need to talk to Korra about.

Or you just make out with her.

It’s hard to talk about these things if you’re making out.

**Engineer5** : You’re a terrible person.

**AvatarofDreams** : Go make out with Korra already.

Or do I have to tell her?

Because I’m assuming this is Asami, right?

**Engineer5** : ……….

**AvatarofDreams** : She talks about you all the time.

**Engineer5** : Does everyone know?

**AvatarofDreams** : Everyone but the two of you.

I swear, at this point Iroh himself is going to show up in your dreams and tell you to make out

**Engineer5** : Who is Iroh?

**AvatarofDreams** : The founder of this place you helped save

Thanks for that by the way

But Iroh was a big spiritualist and he was big helper, taught Aang, helped Korra quite a bit

It would be like Iroh to come back to the spirit world dreams to tell one of his favorite students to make out with someone they like

Until then I’ll just have to do

**Engineer5** : Well… uh thank you?

**AvatarofDreams** : Seriously go make out with Korra, she needs it

And I think you do too

**Engineer5** : Thank you, I will… uh… try

 

            Well shit.

            Double shit.

            Double ultra mega shit.

            She can’t be in love with Korra.

            Not that she would be against being in love with Korra. Korra was a great person, amazing, sweet as sin, and Asami was utterly convinced that she was going to be the prettiest person she’d ever met.

            Not that she had met her yet. But that didn’t really matter.

            They had been talking for a long while now. And Asami felt like she knew Korra, that she was in love with a person, utterly regardless of what they looked like.

            There it was. Asami definitely had feelings. The question was if she would ever be able to act upon those feelings. Would she be able to love Korra like she deserved to be loved? What if Korra wasn’t even into girls? What if Asami was utterly unable to tear down that wall she’d been building slowly around her heart? What if Asami just self-sabotaged enough to implode and pulled Korra down with her? She’s clearly not mentally healthy enough for a relationship, she’s barely surviving as it is.

            But Korra…

            Shit. Shit. Fuck.

            At least she knew that she had feelings. Could she act on those feelings though?

 

**Asami** : Hey, when you get a few minutes can you call me?

**Korra** : Yeah. Bout a half hour.

**Asami** : Thanks. It’s nothing serious.

**Korra** : K

 

            Asami tried to smile. She tried to feel anything other than apprehension.

            She told Korra everything. And she’d be lying if she didn’t tell Korra about her feelings.

            Shit. This was something that was going to have to happen. She didn’t know what she going to do. She didn’t know if she was emotionally able to get involved with someone.

            Ugh.

            While Asami waited for Korra to call her, she went to the Point and looked out across the ocean in the light of day. She could see the waves, the city, Air Temple Island.

            She sat, waited, watched the sea, and thought.

            Finally, Korra called her, sounding a little out of breath. “Hey, sorry that took a little bit longer than I was expecting.”

            “You ok? You sound… winded.”

            “Yeah, just… you know… working out.”

            “Oh, I see.”

            “What did you need to talk about?” Korra asked.

            “Um…” Asami stumbled. “I… This is going to be awkward. I wanted to you… about… I’ve been having these dreams for a long time.”

            “I… I think I know where this is going.”

            “I don’t think you do,” Asami said. “I’ve been having dreams… I think they’re about you.”

            “Have you been having sexy dreams about me?” Korra asked.

            “No! What? No! God no! That would be too easy…” Asami said.

            “Oh…”

            “Um… this is weird isn’t it? This is a bad idea.”

            “Asami. It’s not. Well it is a little bit. But… shit. Are you still in the city? I’m in the city for a bit. Would this be easier to do this face to face?”

            “Probably. But I’ll understand if you don’t want to see me. I’m just hanging out at the Point.”

            “Would you mind if I came to see you?” Korra asked.

            “No. No, I wouldn’t mind. I’m going to be a nervous, anxious mess though.”

            “Tell me about it.”

            “Yeah…”

            “It’ll be a little while. Traffic and all.”

            “Yeah. Ok.”

            And from that point on, all people that Asami could see were potentially Korra. Even though she knew that there was no way that some of these people could be Korra. But that didn’t stop her heart from beating like she was running a marathon, or her hands from shaking with anxiety.

            This was happening. Why was this happening? Why did she agree to this? This was the worst idea of all time. She can’t be doing this, she shouldn’t be doing this. She knew that this was only going to be harder to say to Korra’s face. Part of her was so desperate to finally see her, be able to touch her physically. The other part wanted this to be as far removed as possible, so she could stop behaving like an imbecile and start acting like an adult who shouldn’t be in a relationship.

            How did she even expect this to go? Best case scenario: “hey I’ve been dreaming about you for weeks since before I even met you and I’m emotionally distant and cold because my heart and soul aren’t totally back to being healed yet but I’ve been told you’re my soulmate or some nonsense.” Yeah, like that’d go over well. What the hell is happening in her life?

            After watching everyone go by, wondering if each of them was Korra, lost in her own thoughts, she spotted a large van sitting near the entrance to the park.

            Curious, Asami watched it carefully. It was a good distance away so she couldn’t make out many details. But it was pretty clear that the driver was having an argument with whoever was sitting in the back.

            Her heart was in her throat.

            The figure in the back was trying to walk down the walkway to the Point but the driver was still arguing with whoever it was.

            Asami’s hands were shaking, twitching like a bridge in an earthquake.

            The argument seemed to have been settled as the driver forced the passenger to take two large, things. It was too far away for Asami to see what it was.

            The passenger walked down the path unsteadily, their steps uneven and strangely heavy with two long items in their hands.

            Eventually they stumbled or something and stopped walking. The driver starts to run towards them but the passenger waves them off. Then they take the two things in their hands and starts using them to propel themselves forward. Crutches! They were crutches!

            The passenger got closed, moving with purpose on the crutches. Asami stood up now, turned towards the figure while she nervously wrung her hands.

            She slowly got within sight range. It was a short girl, tanned, even from here Asami could see her ridiculous arm muscles, she had a short cropped hair cut, and the greatest smile Asami had ever seen, despite the slight sheen of sweat from the effort.

            “Korra?”

            “Asami?”

            “Hey.”

            “Hey.”

            Korra drops the crutches and walks with obvious pain and a limp. “Mind if I sit?” she asked as she takes a seat next to where Asami was standing.

            Asami sits down next to her.

            For a long moment they both just looked at each other.

            “Wow.”

            “Wow.”

            Korra was smiling widely, her cheeks were actually starting to hurt.

            “You’re really pretty,” Korra said.

            “Uh… so are you,” Asami muttered, finally turning away from the best friend she’d ever had.

            “Sorry, this is awkward.”

            “No, it’s my fault,” Asami muttered.

            “What is it?” Korra asked. “Can I do anything to help? You’ve never wanted to meet face to face before.”

            “Do you remember those dreams I first came to you about?” Asami asked, looked down at her feet, hanging over the ledge above the ocean water.

            “Yeah. It was actually my first real case here. You were having dreams that you were loved and you were happy but you didn’t know who the person was, but you were pretty sure it wasn’t your… ex.”

            “Because I’m pretty sure that person was you.”

            “Oh thank god,” Korra sighed. “It was going to be awkward if I had to tell you that I was having dreams about you too.”

            “How long did you know?”

            “Not long…” Korra admitted. “Just since you sent that picture of your eye makeup.”

            “Oh, that’s not too bad,” Asami muttered. “I’ve known, on some level, for a while now.”

            “I know why you didn’t say anything.”

            “Do you know what the dreams mean?”

            “Yeah.”

            “That we’re supposedly soulmates and the spirit world is trying to get us together.”

            “So I’ve heard.”

            “Or I’m supposed to kick your ass.”

            “Does that mean you were talking to Kyoshi?”

            “Yeah…”

            “I mean she’s not wrong,” Korra said. “But she does have a very interesting world view. There are two people in the world to her: people she wants to fight and people she wants to kiss.”

            “Sounds like an interesting person.”

            “The polyamorous pansexual woman that I’m frankly too afraid of to be attractive to? Yeah, Kyoshi is pretty interesting,” Korra said with a smile.

            “So you know what I’m going to say?”

            “I have a feeling.”

            Her first instinct, that initial judgment is to grab this cute, amazing, wonderful girl and kiss her and let herself fall hard into love. To commit herself to another person, to push her own broken soul into the background on focus utterly and totally on Korra. To sacrifice her own happiness for Korra’s. She was ready to drown in Korra and never bother to try and save herself. Because falling for this girl next to her would have been the easiest thing in the world to do. But she takes a deep breath, lets that initial reaction, judgment, to pass and makes a decision.

            “Korra. I can’t,” Asami said, and then all of a sudden the words just burst out of her, like a tidal wave. The entire time she looked away from Korra, not even a glance in her direction. If she did, if she saw those eyes, she never would have been able to go through with it. “I want to. I want to so badly be your soulmate. You’re amazing. You’re so nice and amazing and the sweetest person I’ve ever met. Not counting how cute you are in real life. But I can’t do this. I’m not emotionally there enough. My head is all for it. But my heart… my heart is still wounded and hurt and behind this wall that I’ve been building, still building, around me. I don’t even know if you want this, want a relationship with me, but I can’t do it. I’m not emotionally capable.”

            “Asami, it’s ok,” Korra said as she put a gentle hand on the pale woman’s hand.

            “No. No it’s not. I’m… I’m not sure if this is something I’ll ever be able to do. Because the thing is that I want it, I want it all. I want the emotional connection, that intimacy, the physical contact. All of it. But I know that I can’t be the one to give it back. Even the thought of being able to do that to someone else, to be that person, the one there offering comfort and contact and emotional… maturity… that scares me more than anything right now. And that would be massively unfair to you, if we were to do anything together. Fuck. Does any of this make sense?”

            “I get it,” Korra said. “You think I’m even remotely ready to do anything physical? I’ve spent the last year learning how to walk again and I’m still supposed to be in a wheelchair.”

            “But I’m emotionally crippled too.”

            “That’s not true, you’ve been there for me while I’ve been hurting.”

            “No. No I haven’t. Not really,” Asami said. “You haven’t shared anything with me about your therapy or trouble. I’ve just dumped on you constantly. The one time I get you to open up to me and I just listened to you for a bit. And I called someone else to fix a problem for someone I’ve never met or talked to. I didn’t do shit.”

            “Asami. You did plenty. You’ve been there for me, I’m just bad at sharing my problems.”

            “And doesn’t that strike you a super fucking unequal? I dump every single one of my problems on you, and you take it all on without complaint and help me out. Then there is one time that you have a series of really bad days and I talk you through the least bad day of the lot by offering someone else’s help. If we were dating… if we were dating would this be a healthy relationship?”

            Korra didn’t answer.

            “Exactly. I can barely be myself, I can barely hold myself together,” Asami told her. “I can’t do that for you too. I can’t offer _anything_ for you besides being a burden.”

            “What do you want me to say?” Korra asked. “That this is enough for me? That I’m ok with this as we are? That I can wait for you to put yourself together?”

            “No. No, don’t you wait for me,” Asami said. “Don’t stop your life for me because I might, some day in the future get myself together enough to be datable.”

            “So what are you saying?” Korra asked.

            “I don’t know,” Asami muttered, finding herself almost on the verge of tears.

            “I don’t know either.”

            “Korra, I’m sorry. Remember when we first met and I told you that I loved him more than he loved me and it was the worst feeling you could ever experience?” Korra nodded slowly, sadly. “That is what you’d be getting from a relationship with me. You’d be giving me more than I could give back. And it would be awful for you and I never want to do that to another person, least of all you. I don’t want you to wait for me, I’m not ready for a relationship on any level. Can we… can we just continue what we’ve been doing? Awkward friends?”

            “I guess? Are we saying that we want to keep talking, being friendly, but never romantic?”

            Asami sighed heavily. “I don’t know about never. But yeah, that sounds about right.”

            Korra patted Asami’s hand gently. “Well that’s a little disappointing, but you’re very right. This relationship has been super one sided and there’s more I can do, more you can do, more we can both do. We have a lot to work on in our friendship.”

            “Yeah we do,” she said as she wiped a tear away.

            “What do we do now?”

            “I don’t know. I’m thinking of going home and drinking.”

            “Well that’s true, I’m thinking something similar. Although I think I’m going to need to get wheeled back. My arms are tired as shit.”

            “I’m sorry I made you come all the way out here to shoot you down.”

            “It’s ok. But I think we should do this more often, meeting in person. I know for certain that I need to get out more often,” Korra said.

            “Hey, before you go,” Asami said, “promise me you won’t wait for me.”

            Korra looked at Asami, for the first time in a while making eye contact, there was clearly pain in those blue eyes. “I won’t wait for you Asami.” She flashed a hurt smile. “But. But, I won’t stop loving you, unconditionally. Even as a friend. I love you Asami, you’re a great person and never believe anyone who says otherwise. Especially yourself.”

            “Thank you Korra,” Asami whispered. “And I love you too. Even if I can’t really show it.”

            Korra smiled and stood up, clutching her crutches. “We should meet for lunch soon. So I can tell you all about the adventures of PT.”

            “Ok. I think I can do that. But maybe next week.”

            “Ok, next week.”

            “For now I need to get back to Air Temple Island, get a bath, and get ready for my shift,” Korra said as she waved down her driver.

            “Do you need any help?” Asami asked.

            “No, that’s why I have Mako drive me around. He’s got all the stuff I need to get back one way or the other. The jackass is going to be rubbing this in my face all day,” she said.

            “Rubbing what in your face?”

            “The fact that I need him to push me around.” Korra had turned away from Asami but the frown was evident in her voice.

            “You sure you don’t want any help?”

            “No,” Korra said flatly. “I can do this.”

            Asami wanted to say something, but she wasn’t sure what else to say.

            A tall boy pushing a wheelchair with a serious expression on his face appeared.

            “Hi, I’m Mako,” he said politely, but stiffly.

            “Asami.”

            Korra turned to Asami, offered her a tired and strained smile, “We should do this again soon. But I’m really tired, so I should go.”

            “Yeah, we should. Goodbye.”

            And all of a sudden Korra was gone, wheeled off into the late afternoon.

            “Korra,” Mako started.

            “Don’t,” she snapped. “Just… just for once… please don’t.”


	8. Wrong(Time)(Place)(Person)(Soul)

_Call out the fracture between two lives/there’s one to leave behind/the dream isn’t woken/so let it forget/the song is different/hungry for something I can’t say/the colours fade to grey_

            For the next couple of days, the two women went back to texting, that safe, distant communication style that offered plenty filtered personality and edited thoughts. Only now the distance and the filter and the editing was painfully obvious. Even if both of them thought they were offering their real selves.

            But the dreams didn’t stop. In fact, they only got worse now that they knew who the other person was. Asami found herself acting things out in dreams she could never bring herself to say or do in real life. Her subconscious or the spirit world or some twisted god was getting its rocks off by torturing her.

            And perhaps that was the worst part of it.

            The taunting “you could have all this if you were better than you are”. It was enough for Asami to finally admit that she well and truly hated herself.

            After a week solid of dreams of better selves in love, and Korra being able to walk without assistance she finally lost it and went to find help.

            “Tenzin!” she yelled. She would have gone to him, but tracking anyone down while stuck in this damn chair was an exercise in futility.

            “Yes, Korra, can I help you with anything?” he asked in that same pitying tone that drove Korra up the wall. She could do most things herself, it had been over a year, but the way Tenzin sounded and the way he looked at her made her feel like she was some broken tea cup or sickly child.

            “I just need some advice. Or knowledge, or whatever,” Korra said. “I’ve been having spirit world soulmate dreams.”

            “Really? Wonderful!”

            “No. Not wonderful,” Korra snapped. “I’ve been having dreams, she’s been having dreams, they’re great and real and all that shit. But we finally meet and talk and she tells me that she’s not emotionally ready for a relationship, and points out that I’m probably not ready either. We can’t be together without tearing ourselves apart most likely. But the dreams won’t stop.”

            Tenzin sat down in the chair Korra no longer used. “I see. I’m sorry, Korra.”

            “Don’t be sorry. Tell me why the spirit world is so cruel. Or better yet, help me stop these dreams.”

            If at all possible Tenzin’s expression turned even more sad, more pitying, more frustrating. “Well the spirit world is bad at time. Sometimes when it comes to soulmates and these things, it sees a perfect match for two people who are their best selves. And it wants to get those two people together even if those people aren’t their best yet.”

            “So we might be perfect for each other later?”

            “Yes, absolutely. You might be building towards a better Korra and she might be building to a better self too. And when you both reach that goal you’ll be soulmates. Or…”

            “Or what?”

            “Or you might never reach a ‘best self’ that is compatible with her ‘best self’. Maybe one of you reaches that ideal and the other doesn’t and you’ll never truly work. Maybe something happened that set you on a course that will change you from who would be a better match for your soulmate. Maybe the same thing happened to her. Maybe you are just too late and this trauma you are still going through has changed you away from what the spirit world saw as a perfect match for this other person.”

            “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

            “I’m sorry Korra, it’s just… human beings are complicated.”

            “Fuck the spirit world and its stupid shit. It clearly doesn’t know what’s best for me. It’s just made everything worse with these fucking dreams. I was doing fine before this. And now I’m hating myself even more for not being who I was before all this shit. It should have just stayed out of my goddamn life.”

            “Korra…”

            “Sorry. Tenzin, I’m sorry. These dreams make it hard to sleep. And I’m frustrated and tired. Sorry.”

            “You don’t need to apologize. Can I get you anything?”

            “No. I just need some time alone.”

 

* * *

 

            Asami was cursing the dreams herself. She knew that they were just stupid speculation and spirit world nonsense combined with her vindictive subconscious.

            But all the same, fuck it for daring to make her hate herself for not being someone better.

            The pendulum of her depression had swung back. And it had swung back hard.

            She had been… not dealing with it, but surviving it so far. And all of sudden she found herself back at rock bottom. Tired, numb, defeated. She knew that she should be doing all sorts of things. Healing, working, trying to put the pieces of her broken life back together, trying to better herself.

            But she found herself too exhausted to do any of that. She simply goes through the motions of her life. Her routine makes it easy to just retreat from the world mentally and run on autopilot. She went to work, she signed papers, she did stuff, she didn’t go out, she went very few places besides her office and her apartment, and she talked to Korra most days.

            At some point she started to feign emotions and stopped feeling them as the depression sank its claws into her exposed soul and started sucking away at the marrow. She didn’t recognize she was doing it, and now she can’t remember if she was faking the emotions for fleeting moments and discarding the mask just as fast or if she really just feeling joy or sadness or anger in miniscule moments and no longer.

            Figuring that out would have required effort, and Asami just didn’t have any to spare.

            She barely had enough effort to drink when she got back to the apartment after work. Just enough to make sleeping easier and dreaming more difficult.

            So it was easy for her to not notice when the dreams just suddenly stopped.

            It still sucked. Because even though the dreams stopped, the feeling continued to haunt her. The knowledge that she would be worthy of that love she so desperately craved if she was just better. That was engrained within her. Once the dreams started they’d be with her forever. A terrible mirror image of the life she’d never feel worthy of propped up in her mind.

            Asami was neck deep in the biggest depression spell she’d been in since the breakup proper and she couldn’t quite recall how she got there. But it didn’t really matter. Everything was terrible. She was terrible. And nothing was ever going to get better.

            She started to do her go to “dealing with it” solution by turtling herself up and nestling away from the world as much as possible.

            So concerned was she with her own shit that she didn’t notice Korra pulling away.

            She didn’t notice until Korra called her late one night.

            “Asami, sorry to bother you.”

            “Don’t worry about it,” she said. “I wasn’t doing anything of any relevance or importance. What’s up?”

            “I just wanted to let you know that I’m leaving town for a bit.”

            “Where are you going?”

            “I’m heading home, to the Southern Water Tribe. My… physical therapy has stalled here. I can’t get the help I need here, so I’m going home. There’s… also some stuff I’ve been putting off dealing with back there,” Korra responded. “I just need to go home for a bit.”

            Asami didn’t sigh, she did breathe slowly for a moment. “Ok, you do what you need to do to heal. We can still talk, right?”

            “Absolutely, but we’re real bad with cell service back home. So I might not get texts and phone calls will probably be spotty. We can definitely write lengthy emails though.”

            “Ok, that works for me. Have a good trip.”

            “Thanks, Asami.”

            When she hung up the phone, there was some sinking part of her that felt like she made the wrong decision, but after another long, slow breath, the feeling died as quickly as every other feeling in her chest. Asami knew that she’d miss Korra, but right now she couldn’t bring herself to care.


	9. A Part|Apart

_Keep me from you, I don’t want to be around anyone/you are free, to let go, and follow slowly/cold, cold, heart, heart_

            At first the emails were short, like slightly longer texts. They responded quickly and often. Like nothing had really changed. Because it really didn’t change. Their messages were still edited, still strangely hollow, still not quite as soul-bearing as it should have been between two people who were supposedly perfect for each other.

            And as Korra got further away, the messages got further apart.

            They got longer. More edited, more reserved.

            Eventually Asami just started talking to a wall. One message every week or so, when she was feeling particularly lost. They were long, a couple of pages. Just talking about whatever, about her life, but never how bad it’s gotten for her, never how depressed it got, nothing like that. Never open about weakness, doubt, or depression.

            And eventually Korra stopped responding altogether.

            And eventually Asami just sent one email whenever she wanted to, which was quite possibly only once every other month, during times she really needed a connection.

            Except it wasn’t really a connection was it? It was Asami, out at the Point, talking into the abyss hoping that she’d get a response. At least when Korra was around, the abyss would respond. But then she left and took her responses with her. She never responded.

            The lights on Air Temple Island were always out whenever Asami went out to look out into the ocean.

            Email after email. Long empty silences punctuated by the occasional breakdown and hoped connection.

            But there was nothing. Just silence.

            Empty, empty silence.

            It really was an abyss this time.

            Dark, empty, all engrossing. And despite all the emails sent, all the words shouted across that chasm, the abyss just took them up and crushed them into oblivion.

            Crushed them into silence.

            After seven months, Asami just kinda gave up. She stopped with the letters. She stopped talking to Korra who had never responded.

            She should have expected this, she was now totally alone.

            Soulmates. Asami couldn’t even hold on to her soulmate.

            Once, after Asami had given up trying to talk to Korra, the depression pendulum swung back hard, she might have drunkenly enquired about therapy. And since she swung back to towards being impossibly numb, she just rolled with it. Shame, or possibly embarrassment, at being weak enough to require therapy, to sink that low, was an impossibility. Asami hadn’t felt something like that in a long time.

            But at the same time maybe it wasn’t weakness to need help, whispered one tiny, insignificant piece of her mind.

            She tried out a couple of therapists, found one that worked.

            Or at least one that didn’t run screaming from, “Hi I’m Asami, I hate myself, I’m depressed and nothing I do seems to matter. I’ve been building up walls ever since my previous relationship fell apart because I can’t seem to find someone who loves me for me. And then I find someone who might be perfect for me and she runs away and I haven’t even heard from her in almost a year. Because everyone I might find myself in love with runs away with, leaving me all alone. Again. Oh and here is the pieces of my soul I’m still trying to put together, and I haven’t even gotten around to finishing the edges of the billion piece puzzle that feels like it cuts into my hands whenever I pick up a piece.”

            Talking to someone, regularly, over and over again reassuring her, telling her that it wasn’t her fault and all that stuff. The moderate prescription for an anti-depressant helped.

            But more than that was the repetition. Someone telling her it was ok. That she was ok, that nothing was wrong. The sheer repetition of it all started to seep in the cracks of Asami’s wall.

            Still, all of the progress that she had fought for and built up and stitched together pieces of her soul weren’t prepared for the one word email response from Korra.

 

 **AvatarKorra@AvatarofDreams.net** : back

 

            That was it. Just the word back.

            No explanation or apology or anything. It had been almost a year since Asami had heard anything from her. What was she supposed to think? This girl who had wormed her way into her life at the lowest point had just disappeared from all contact without warning.

            And now she was “back”. What the hell did that even mean?

            What was she supposed to do with that information?

            What was she supposed to respond to Korra? She’d been gone for… well nine months and change. There has been so much that happened in Asami’s life. But not really. Not much happened, just a lot of healing and trying to put herself together. She felt like she had just about succeeded. Her soul was a monster of stitched up holes, Frankensteined pieces put together, and tender, precarious wounds that had just started to close.

            What would reintroducing her soulmate do to that fragile soul of hers?

            What would having Korra in her life do to her?

            How had she changed? How had Korra changed? Would those goddamn dreams start up again? She wasn’t sure if she wanted to go back to those dreams, even if the pain that came with them was still present because she hadn’t quite gotten over hating herself yet. The return of the hyper realistic dreams in which she was a better person and loved for that fact might ruin her completely.

            She didn’t respond, she couldn’t respond.

            There was nothing Asami could say that would encompass all those emotions she was feeling, roiling within her.

            Eventually Korra sent another email, this one much longer.

 

 **AvatarKorra@AvatarofDreams.net** :

            Sorry I was gone for so long. I have more to say.

            I read all your emails. I have responses for each of them.

            But suddenly none of the words I have seem to matter. Even a little bit.

            I’m sorry Asami. Really, really sorry.

            But I had to leave. I had to get back to being me. I had to heal on my own.

 

            Asami knew that felling. It was good for her these last months, finally focusing on fixing herself, and it was probably easier without Korra around to make everything harder. But still… Did she just expect to go back to everything they had before?

            She didn’t even know if she wanted Korra to be in her life anymore.

            But maybe that was just the bitterness of the last nine Korra-less months talking.

            She couldn’t respond. Not yet. Thankfully there was another email from Korra.

 

 **AvatarKorra@AvatarofDreams.net** : I really want to apologize to you properly. But I’ve literally been walking and hitchhiking for the last… four weeks trying to get back to the City. And I really need a bath and a change of clothes and to make apologies to everyone here that I kind of abandoned.

            And I do really really want to apologize to you too. Like proper apologizing.

            For real apologizing. For leaving. For having some super bitter thoughts. For being an asshole. For being me. For everything.

            Which I don’t know if you want to do this face to face or via text, or if I can do it right over email. (but I am bad at words and email)

            But I am really sorry.

            Korra

 

            Asami stared at her screen for several long moments.

 

 **Sato.Asami@FutureIndustries.com** :

            Korra,

            I’m glad your safe. This city is better for having you in it.

            It’s been a long time.

            Asami

 

            It came across as cold. And while she didn’t necessarily mean it to be so cold, she certainly felt that what she said.

            What else could she have said to the girl she was supposed to be perfect for after nine months of silence?

            Asami didn’t want to wait for a response. She didn’t want to sit up and stare at her computer screen for an email she wouldn’t be sure would ever come. But sleep wouldn’t find her. She didn’t feel like she need it. Sleep was something that could come later. Asami did have other things to work on during that time, but her emails stayed open, and within sight the entire time.

            So when three am rolled around and Korra hadn’t said anything for going on five hours now, Asami was ready to attempt sleep if not actually sleep. But like so many of the conversations, Korra seemed awake enough to continue communicating despite the inhuman hour.

 

 **AvatarKorra@AvatarofDreams.net** :

            Sorry.

            I deserved that. I really did.

            My healing process involved heading home to an ice city without proper internet, getting some very intense therapy that mostly helped, and then running away from home and all my problems for way too long.

            I finally got my own shit sorted out. I’m mostly better.

            Tenzin told me that I’m welcome to stay in the Temple again, on the condition that I see a therapist. Which I’ve actually already make contacts about that. So… yeah professional help!

            I know have no right to ask you this, but I miss you and I hope we can go back to being texting buddies? I just got my phone charged up for the first time in half a year, so I can text and call like a civilized person once again. If you’d ever be up for talking to me again.

            Sorry.

 

            Asami sighed. She wasn’t sure how she felt about this girl any more. Her feelings were a mess and usually not to be trusted. But this girl… it seems like she’s being honest with her for the first time ever. Like truly, totally honest. Like soul-bearingly honest.

            Texting buddies.

            She could probably do that.

 

 **Sato.Asami@FutureIndustries.com** : You have the same number?

 

            Her phone buzzed.

 

 **Korra** : Yeah, same phone, same Korra, different haircut though.

 **Asami** : What did you do to it?

 **Korra** : I think it is called a bob?

I don’t know, I had an early morning breakdown after I ran away from home and took some scissors to it

It’s super shaggy now and I need some professional help with it

 **Asami** : Well at least scissors tend to give straight line cuts

 **Korra** : Nothing about me is straight

And by scissors I meant a combat knife

Oops

 **Asami** : you did what

 **Korra** : cut off all my hair with a combat knife

 **Asami** : Korra…

 **Korra** : I know, I know

I’ve made a series of terrible decisions since way before I met you until about four minutes ago

 **Asami** : what happened four minutes ago?

 **Korra** : I texted you

 **Asami** : cute. But don’t

 **Korra** : sorry

 **Asami** : I can’t

 **Korra** : See what I mean? Just continual bad decision making on my part

Sorry

 **Asami** : Well I actually should get to sleep

 **Korra** : Good night

Sleep tight

Pleasant dreams

 **Asami** : Thanks

Same to you

Whenever you feel the need to sleep

 **Korra** : I should have been asleep like at least 6 hours ago

But I keep making terrible choices

 **Asami** : go to sleep Korra

 **Korra** : good night Asami

 

* * *

 

            When she did eventually fall asleep, she dreamed a dream.

            It was as vivid as it was real. It was as strong as any of the dreams she had before, when the spirit world was trying to tell her to find her soulmate.

            But this one was different. This one wasn’t the product of an out-of-touch spirit world or a vindictive subconscious. This was just a dream, one as real as reality.

            She found herself in a bed, impossibly warm and comfortable as she had ever been in a bed ever. More so than she ever found herself when sleeping by herself. She was content and happy and totally unwilling to leave the circumstances she found herself in.

            There was nothing wrong here. Nothing at all.

            She was ok with herself, with her location in life. She had finally put the pieces of her soul back together, and come out this shit-fest of a year on other side, successful, alive.

            When she awoke, she found that she couldn’t remember if there was someone else in the bed with her in the dream, or if she was loved for who she was there. But she did remember the feeling of being at peace with herself, of being truly ok with who she was. For the first time the dream matched reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was less "I have a story to tell" and more "I binge wrote this months ago and needed some catharsis in posting it. If you made it this far, I'm sorry?  
> If you feel like leaving me comments/kudos I will be greatly appreciating it and smiling softly to myself, I just don't know if I'll respond to them. But I will be reading them all, promise.  
> Thank you for putting up with me.  
> <3 Bourbon  
> bother me at: abronzeagegod.tumblr.com


End file.
